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DTTGAiT) STEAViRT, ESQ. F.TL.S. s. LOTsTDON Sc EDrNBITRGK tcC.StC. 

(3u a z IJ f-Hunwt- 



COLLOQUIES. 



IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS 



BETWEEN 



A PHRENOLOGIST 



AND THE SHADE OF 




-»t>,lf 



DUGALD STEWART. 




/ 
By J. SLADE, M.D. F.G.S. M.P.S.L. 

LATELY PHYSICIAN TO TWO INFIRMARIES ; 

AUTHOR OF " LETTERS ON PHRENOLOGY, OR THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE 

BRAIN" — "A TREATISE ON OPHTHALMIA," &C &C. 



LONDON : 

PARBURY & Co., No. 8, LEADENHALL STREET. 

1838. 






Vv 



S. M'Dowall, Printer, Leaden hall Street- 



I 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



It may be necessary to offer some excuse for 
the following Dedication. With the exception of 
one individual, I have received from every person 
there mentioned such civilities, and from some, 
such very marked proofs of friendship, as to leave 
me the pleasing task of acknowledging them in this 
manner, which is gratifying to every Author, and 
deemed one of the strongest proofs of sincerity he 
can give, and of the obligation he conceives him- 
self to be under. 

I reserve other names for a second Volume, 
which will be published in case of this succeeding. 

The Author. 



A 2 



DEDICATION. 



The first Colloquy is dedicated to the 
Rev. CHARLES KEKEWICK, A. M. 

The second to the 
Rsr. MATTHEW MUNDY, A.M. 

The third to 
LADY MARY SHEPHERD. 

The fourth to 
LIEUTENANT FREDERICK SLADE, R. N. 

The fifth to 
ROBERT HERRIES, Esq. 



VI. DEDICATION. 

The sixth to 
Sir MATTHEW JOHN TIERNEY, Bart., M. D. 

The seventh to 

WILLIAM SLADE, Esq. 

Doctors' Commons. 

The eighth to 
WILLIAM BOWLES, Esq., F.L.S. F.G.S. F.H.S. 

The ninth to 
MISS MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. 

The tenth to 

Dr. ELLIOTSON, M.D. F.R.S. 

President of the Phrenological Society. 

The eleventh to the 
Rev. JAMES YATES, A. M. F. L. S. F. G. S. 

The twelfth to 
JOHN SWEETLAND, Esq. 



DEDICATION. 



The thirteenth to 



GEORGE DALE COLLINSON, Esq., A. M. 
Barrister at Law. 

The fourteenth to 
GENERAL SIR JOHN SLADE, Bart. 

The fifteenth to 

EDWARD GRESLEY STONE, Esq. 
Coptfold Hall. 

And the Appendix on Phrenology and Fatalism to 
Mrs. COLONEL TUFNELL. 



CONTENTS. 



COLLOQUY I. 

Page 
Sublimity and beauty — Valley of Lynmouth — Petrarch 
and Laura — Vancluse — Alhambra — Spring and Autumn 
— Genii of a fairy land — Ghost of Stewart — fear of the 
Phrenologist — Phrenology — allusion to Paradise — 
friendly warning and disappearance of the Professor ... 1 

COLLOQUY II. 

Valley of Rocks at Lynton — Bristol Channel and Welch 
Coast — Danish Encampment — Keith and Buckingham 
— the fastidiousness of concealing errors — Dr. Taylor 
and Johnson — dream of Linnaeus — views of Lucan — 
authority of Reason — virtue and vice — object of the 
Deity in creating man — Stewart's objection and assent 
to phrenology — opinion and talents of Combe — pre- 
judices against phrenology — Phrenologist's conversion — 
inconsistencies of antiplirenologists— the genius of Gall 
— Elliotson's opinion of him , 21 

COLLOQUY III. 

Advantages of emulation — ages of literature — superiority 
of phrenology over other mental doctrines — nature of 
mind — organs of the brain — Bishop Berkeley's opinion 
— permanency and universality of the mental faculties.. 44 
* b 



Xll- CONTENTS. 

Page 

COLLOQUY XI. 

Developments of different races of men — progress and fall 
of nations — natural state of man — divisions of the 
human family by Blumenbach — views of Lawrence, 

Pritchard, and Turner 211 

\ 

COLLOQUY XII. 

Spring — reminiscences — a savage's notion of death — soul 
derived from God, and not destructible — resurrection — 
infidelity — Dryden — state of the mind in Paradise — 
reason and religion often opposed — immortality of fame 
— evil of possessing great talents without religion — 
Spenser — Paradise — ministering spirits — Christ the only 
Mediator . . . 238 

COLLOQUY XIII. 

Animal propensities — moral sentiments — intellectual facul- 
ties 257 

COLLOQUY XIV. 

Teignmouth and its suburbs — calmness of morning — sere- 
nity of thoughts — nature and art — Dawlish and its 
inhabitants — pride — Lord Exmouth — naval men — Scio 
— Dr. Clarke — bay-tree — poet laureat — Greeks and 
Romans — unhealthiness of Teignmouth — beauty and 
pleasure — account of Hebe — loneliness and darkness — 
Johnson — Euphrasia — Grecian daughter — thinking a 
disease — development of Hebe — organ of gaiety — mind 
— fatigue and repose — opinion of an antiphrenologist . . 28 



CONTENTS. X11I. 

Page 
COLLOQUY XV. 

Phrenology and legislation — Ideality — the pleasure expe- 
rienced by this faculty — Addison — Dr. T. Brown — 
Lord Kaimes — the Ancients — Shakspeare — the Scandi- 
navian— Ossian — Macpherson, Blair — Scripture language 
poetical — poetic feeling — Pope and Byron — character 
of poets — genius 305 

APPENDIX. 

Phrenology and fatalism — nature of man — visitations of 
God — religion independent of organization — conscience 
— Phrenology in accordance with nature — ascendancy of 
evil — will and propensity. 



ADDRESS TO THE READER. 



A colloquial style of writing is of ancient 
authority. Among the moderns we are indebted 
to Landor and Southey in particular for imaginary 
conversations. To the colloquies between Sir 
Thomas More and Montesino, written by the latter,, 
I owe the idea of composing the present work. 

The Dialogues of Hyla and Philoneus which 
appeared in the year 1713, and which had reference 
to the connection between mind and matter, were 
sought after eagerly by the mentalists of the day. 
These dialogues purported to shew that matter had 
no real existence — that whatever appeared tangible 
was only so in sensation or idea, communicated by 
the Deity agreeably to certain laws, called laws of 
nature. A false doctrine ! and one which Bishop 
Berkeley assiduously strove to inculcate. 



XVI. ADDRESS TO THE READER. 

My object in selecting Stewart as the imaginary 
conversationalist, is not to discuss the propriety 
of his doctrines in detail, which would lead me 
into abstrusities of no general interest nor utility, 
but because he occupied a prominent station in 
metaphysical literature and moral philosophy, and 
because he was an opponent to Phrenology, and 
one of that nation among whom the science has 
especially flourished. If, indeed, I had followed 
him through the perplexing and intricate labyrinth 
of metaphysics and morals, my labour would have 
been in vain, for no one would have read my work. 
I use him as a vehicle to convey my own notions, 
having yet carefully avoided putting words into his 
mouth which he might, were he alive, disclaim, or 
be able, with reason and force, to disprove. To have 
done otherwise would have been placing him in an 
invidious light — a position he would not deserve. 
Looking upon him as a man of sound judgment, and 
affecting no singularities of opinion contrary to the 
views which nations in all ages have entertained, 
and which, directly or indirectly, bear upon Phreno- 
logy, I have not hesitated to make him a participator 
in their common sentiments — a recogniser or sup- 
porter of principles, the truth of which it would be 
pedantic and unwise to question. 



ADDRESS TO THE READER. XV11. 

I avail myself of this opportunity to mention that 
an objection has been made to Stewart giving his 
assent to one of the fundamental principles of Phre- 
nology so early as his second interview, and at a period 
when no arguments had been used sufficiently 
forcible, strong, or persuasive to convert a sceptic. 
But was he sceptical here ? He could not have been 
so reasonably. To exempt myself, however, at all 
times, from inconsistencies, in the attempt to sustain 
a character of so singular a kind, would be impossi- 
ble. Latitude must be given an author, when fancy 
and imagination are on the wing, and particularly 
when the imaginative channel is merely used as a 
medium for the development of something rational 
and definable. My object must not be overlooked 
in introducing the spirit of the great philosopher. 
It is simply to render the subject of Phrenology 
more attractive to the general reader. For the same 
reason, I have been somewhat episodical in the 
course of conversation, being far from believing that 
the digressions of a pen, which touch upon interest- 
ing facts and instructive systems, will be ill received. 
The poet is allowed his episode; and I see no reason 
why the prosaist, who aims at the advancement of 
any one particular branch of science, should not enjoy 
the same privilege. Such digressions, however, as 



XV1U. ADDRESS TO THE READER. 

may break the thread of the discourse abruptly,, can 
be advocated by no precedent. I have endeavoured 
to avoid this, though not always successfully ; and 
have usually excluded such digressions as may be 
entirely foreign to the main object in view. 

One great defect may be seen running through 
these Colloquies — it is that they are not sufficiently 
disputative. In this I have found much difficulty. 
So perfect a being as a paradisiacal spirit could not 
be supposed to advance any thing radically erroneous; 
and if irreconcilable differences of opinion existed, 
the Phrenologist only could be in error, and he is 
not anxious to take this position. 

While the critic is disposed to condemn me on 
account of the extravagances he may behold, parti- 
cularly in the first Colloquy, I crave indulgence, 
not only in consequence of the difficulties which have 
presented themselves, but in consideration of the 
laudable design I have had in view, which is to con- 
vey, through an attractive medium — fiction, useful 
information, to censure abuses, to inculcate virtue, 
to engender proper notions of religion, and to clear 
away those encumbrances and quackeries in Phreno- 
logy which prevent the science being familiarized 



ADDRESS TO THE READER. XIX. 

to the public mind. Religious instruction should be 
the ultimate, when not the first, object of all research 
and all writing: and where can we find a fitter 
channel to convey probity and piety than through 
a disquisition on mind, and its connection with 
matter? Philosophy, says Abercrombie, fails of its 
noblest object if it does not lead us to God ; and 
whatever may be its pretensions, that is unworthy 
the name of science, which professes to trace the 
sequences of nature, and yet fails to discover, as if 
marked by a sunbeam, the mighty hand which 
arranged them all. I have pursued a track which 
my own genius, such as it is, prompted me to follow. 
Some parts of it may be found barren, dry, and 
uninteresting ; but man has no desire to live among 
perpetual sweets. He would sicken at the very pro- 
spect; and every author feels what every child of 
nature would feel, that it is painful, if not im- 
possible, to dwell continually in a land of imagina- 
tion, where nothing solid exists to exercise the 
reason, nothing real to call forth the affections, 
nothing true to promote the eternal interests. We 
may, as Johnson says, take fancy for our companion, 
but must follow reason as our guide : nor have I lost 
sight of the maxim, that variety is pleasing. We 
admire Dryden as a poet, on account of the alternate 



XX. ADDRESS TO THE READER. 

ruggedness and smoothness, barrenness and beauty 
of his verse ; and Aristotle as a philosopher, not less 
for the purity of some of his philosophy, than for 
the versatility of his powers, and the variety of his 
subjects. Variety is, " as the morning of the mind, 
bringing new objects and images successively into 
view, and scattering its own fresh light over all." 

The frequent allusion to Chatterton in this 
volume are made with some view of stimulating 
the public in behalf of an elaborate life of the Poet 
now ready for the press, containing a comparison 
between him and his contemporaries, a dissertation 
on the Rowleian poetry, with a modernised version 
of its great beauties, and a critical and full account 
of his eventful history and miraculous talents — the 
fulness and splendour of which have never yet been 
brought forth. 

I have one other excuse to offer for the imper- 
fections of this volume — the serious illness of my late 
wife. Through many months of anxious solicitude 
on her account, I was called upon to write for the 
press, not only for this, but another work, as matter 
was wanted, without having time to revise and 
transcribe. She lived to see, what she was most 



ADDRESS TO THE READER. XXI, 

anxious to see, the close of my labours carried on 
under such unfavourable circumstances, when 

" Death, the monitor that flatters not, 
" Pointed to the grave where all her hopes were laid." 

Five or six of the first Colloquies were composed 
before her illness commenced : and as a proof of that 
strength of mind with which she was gifted, I refer 
the reader to the beginning of the fifth Colloquy, 
relative to the grounds of Mr. Herries, the greater 
part of which was written by her. Her powers of 
composition were limited ; but she had a judgment 
and understanding, a clearness of intellect, a delicacy 
of taste, of surpassing greatness. What is more, she 
possessed principles and virtues of the highest order, 
affections and sympathies of the dearest and tender- 
est kind, every thought and feeling breaking through 
her young and Madonna-like countenance, like sun- 
beams through the morning air. To him who saw 
the expression under every sentiment and shade of 
passion, and who loved her for her endearing smiles 
and brilliant virtues, it is most memorable. It is 
known only to one, and can therefore be remembered 
only by one — a remembrance which no time, no 
situation, no circumstance can chase away, and which 
will always keep alive a longing, lingering hope 



XX11. ADDRESS TO THE READER. 

that the period is yet to arrive when the short union, 
begun on earth, will be consecrated and sanctified in 
Heaven. 

Yes — as I think of Mary^s mind, 

Though perhaps to Mary's mind unknown, 

One infant wish is left behind — 

One feeling which I call my own ! 

But all unite in acknowledging her superiority 
in mind, manners, and person — all are ready to con- 
fess that she left upon the recollection a peculiar 
interest in her behalf — one of an undying character 
— one which gained undivided empire over the 
heart. The numerous letters of condolence received 
on the occasion of her death, the eulogies they con- 
tain, and the peculiar spirit of attachment and 
regret which they breathe, convince me she will 
live in the memory of her friends for ever. But 
let me celebrate in verse, the highest order of com- 
position, and take a farewell, though not a last 
farewell, of her whom to forget would be loss, and 
whom to lose would be misery, were it not that 
both reason and religion teach us to look now to 
other sources for comfort, and to rejoice rather than 
repine at an event which is to her gain. Farewell, 
then, thou — 



ADDRESS TO THE READER. XX111. 



. Whose heavenly mind 



Genius with virtue, strength with softness join'd ; 
Devotion, undebasM by pride or art, 
With meek simplicity, and joy of heart ; 
Though sprightly, gentle ; though polite, sincere ; 
With mind too delicate the world to bear ; 
Unblamed, unequalPd in each sphere of life, 
The tenderest daughter, sister, parent, wife. 
In thee their patroness th' afflicted lost ; 
Thy friends, their pattern, ornament, and boast ; 

And I But, ah ! can words my loss declare, 

Or paint th' extreme of transport and despair ? 
thou, beyond what verse or speech can tell, 
My guide, my friend, my best beloved — farewell ! 

j. s. 

Bath, December, 1837. 



COLLOQUY I. 



J_T was the opinion of Burke, the author of the Sub- 
lime and Beautiful, that these two qualities are opposed to 
each other. In the light he views them they are so. He 
would have the former convey an idea of whatever is 
magnificent but desolate ; the latter of whatever is small 
but picturesque. Sublimity and beauty, in this sense, 
possess no concordant properties. They are attributes of 
nature, on which the mind may rest with equal interest, 
but not with equal delight. The one attracts us by its 
gloom, barrenness, and quiet grandeur ; the other by its 
fertility and loveliness. But the degree of pleasure with 
which the eye turns upon a beautiful scene in nature, far 
surpasses that with which it would look upon one that is 
sublime. It is possible that these dissimilar features may 
exist in a space of limited extent, though they are seldom 
to be met with so concentred : when they are, a variety 
is imparted to the scene which excites contending emo- 
tions in the mind, of intense interest. These, in their 
turn, produce reflections the more elevated, because they 
have their origin in deeply affected feelings. A striking 
mixture of such dissimilar features is to be found in the 
east Lyn Valley of Lynmouth, where there seems to be 
a struggle for pre-eminence between sublimity and beauty. 
They exist in majestic rivalry, separated only by a purling 
and meandering stream, which has its rise in Exmoor, or 



2 COLLOQUY I. 

some of the adjacent hilly country. The valley is a deep, 
narrow, and rather circuitous ravine, with two lines of 
mountainous hill of equal height, opposite each other, 
diversified by precipices, woods, and rocks. What Olympus 
and Ossa were to the Thessalian Tempe, the renowned 
valley, and the once beautiful river Peneus, so are these 
lines and the purling streams to the vale of Lynmouth. 
One line is covered from the bottom to the summit with 
foliage of great richness; the other line is of shingle 
and rock ; huge masses of which overhang the path, in 
many places, with fearful majesty. Craggy, bold, abrupt, 
sombre, and precipitous, a scene is presented to the eye 
on this side, which, in strong contrast with the other, 
forms a peculiar, romantic, and splendid variety. To 
those who seek for and delight only in rural beauty, and 
attach grandeur to nothing that does not carry with it 
some utility, a scene of this description would create dis- 
appointment. It is, in truth, not a rural, but a romantic 
spot. A few Exmoor sheep may be seen climbing, like 
the mountain-goat, the craggy steeps in search of herbage, 
and here and there the hand of the husbandman may 
have left some traces of his industry in the cultivation 
of some of the least precipitous parts of the cliff; but the 
soil is unkind, and yields but little in recompence for the 
labour which has been bestowed upon it. 

Those who have seen the favourite valley of the great 
Italian poet Petrarch, near Avignon, may form some 
notion of this. Vaucluse is bounded on both sides by 
stupendous cliffs : it has an advantage in singularity over 
the Lynmouth valley, having but one entrance to it, the 
two parallel cliffs meeting at the farther end in a semi- 
circle. In the semicircular space a cavern of great dimen- 
sions exists, and in a remote and gloomy part of it a 
reservoir of water, unfathomable, it is said, in depth, and 



COLLOQUY I. 3 

supplying a stream of some magnitude which meanders 
through the course of the valley. In this locality Petrarch 
passed many of his days in studious retirement. Hither 
he confessedly repaired in search of that happiness which 
he could not gain from dissipation, and the ways of every 
day life. Society, in general, was irksome and toilsome 
to a mind composed of materials so delicate, and fruitful 
in the production of that wisdom which seeks the shade, 
and which vulgar minds suppose to be the effect of 
misanthropy. He loved the spot, and anticipated the 
possession of no greater indulgence under heaven than a 
residence here. To him it was a terrestrial paradise: 
here he sang to his favourite Laura, and dedicated himself 
to that most bewitching and engrossing of all pursuits, 
the cultivation of the Muses. The sister-nine were held 
sacred by him ; they drew forth his recreative and excur- 
sive imagination, and suggested to him a retreat so roman- 
tic and sublime, where he might woo them in seclusion 
and quiet. Extraordinary and magnificent to a degree, 
the valley suited such a literary disposition as his ; it 
seemed to heighten the imaginative tone of his mind, and 
give to the poetic images there delineated a bold and ele- 
vated character. How many of our geniuses, ancient and 
modern, have sighed for a retreat such as this, where 
they might be excluded from the cares and frivolous 
occupations of the world, and luxuriate, unmolested, in 
their own thoughts, creating and eliciting ! It were yet 
a place for sober thought, where reason might exclude 
all sophistry, and still retain at will some superstitious 
and illusive traditions to aid the creative and suggestive 
fancies of the poet. Wherever there is catastrophe of a 
tragic species, or invention that is pathetic, or romance 
that is heroic, or enterprise bold and adventurous, a ban- 
quet is presented to the mind which will never lose its 
b 2 



4 COLLOQUY I. 

interest while it retains its variety and richness. The 
traditions of the ancients, the stories of the classic poets, 
however gothic and romantic, however subtile and irre- 
gular in design, or overstrained in sentiment, excite those 
passions of man which have a relish for whatever is 
marvellous, strange, and improbable. The more excitable 
these passions, the more intense is the interest they feel 
in all associations which have a romantic bearing. Thus, 
not only fictitious narrative, but rugged, bold, wild, and 
magnificent scenery is approached with interest, and con- 
templated with delight. Such scenery is the true fairy 
land of the poet, and such might be found in the valley 
of Lynmouth. 

The imagination can scarcely picture to itself a com- 
bination of all the properties of the sublime and beautiful 
in nature brought together in so small a compass. The 
long-lost glories of the Alhambra may remind us of 
former greatness and mournful vicissitudes — the vineyards 
of Italy of luxuriance and plenty ; but this, in particular, 
reminds us of God, and all that appertains to immortality. 
It has often been the scene of my meditations, which 
would vary in intenseness and animation in proportion 
to the susceptibility of the mind at the time, and accord- 
ing to the season of the year. Sometimes the mind is 
little disposed to receive impressions, little inclined to be 
excursive, and to loosen the reins of the imagination. At 
one period it is more influenced by whatever may induce 
sentiment — at another time, reflection. Now it is alive 
to the marvellous and fanciful ; now to the purely simple 
and real. There are likewise seasons of the year peculiarly 
congenial to the expansion of the intellect, to the elevation 
of the feelings. Spring imparts a buoyancy to the mind, 
which makes it delight in the romantic and pleasing; 
while autumn seems more suited to pensive and pro- 



COLLOQUY I. 5 

found contemplation. It was in the spring of the year, 
however, when Nature arises from her slumber, when 
the whole animate world exults with joy, and the inani- 
mate is covered with a mantle of verdure, decked and 
bespangled with her inconceivable variety of flowers, and 
budding blossoms, that I wandered forth, in a contem- 
plative and susceptive mood, in the cool of the day, into 
this romantic and charming vale. As I advanced, my 
thoughts became particularly directed towards that Being 
who created this elysium. Awe, reverence, and love took 
possession of my mind, the majesty of the Almighty 
being evidently shadowed forth in the majesty of those 
works upon which my eye rested; for they are noble 
monuments of creative energy — sure signs of immortality. 
In this mood I took a prospective glance at the future. 
I felt, with the immortal Milton, as though 

" The deep transplanted mind may soar 
" Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door 
" Look in.' ' 

The prospect is particularly calculated to inspire 
thoughts like these. Now it was that infidelity, that 
unbelief of the human heart which often tinges some of 
the best thoughts of man, seemed, for a time, to be 
dethroned, and reason and faith to take their lawful, 
yet unwonted seats. I thought of the spirits of those 
good men who had departed this life, and I wondered 
whether they were permitted to visit terrestrial scenes, 
that they might be taught more perfectly to fear, while 
they were allowed to praise and adore. I sought, in 
imagination, for the tutelary deities of the Athenians and 
Corinthians, willing, for a moment at least, to encourage 
the idea of their being invested with the power and 
authority which a deluded people had given them. I 



COLLOQUY I. 

called to mind the land of Eden, and the promised land 
of the Israelites. Though more fertile, and with a clime 
more genial, they could not, I imagined, present a pro- 
spect more majestic, more fitted in one respect to inspire 
fear, and awaken belief. Sages may reason, and divines 
propound, but what speaks so eloquently of God as the 
scene which now lay before me ? To think of it as the 
creation of one Being, is to acknowledge it as one of the 
strongest evidences of infinite wisdom, power, and good- 
ness ; to regard it as a work that must pass away, and be 
reduced to its primary state — to something, at least, not 
tangible, is admitting the existence of a Power that can 
distance the combined influence of every mind in every 
age and country, by degress of infinite and immeasurable 
extent. Pursuing this train of thought, which I was 
willing to indulge, the shadows of the evening overtook 
me. The boldness of the outline that surrounded me was 
relieved by the dusky hues of twilight; the time and 
the locality had the effect of soothing and tranquillizing 
my thoughts. The impressions wrought upon them, 
however, were but partially removed: philosophy now 
took the place of admiration, and my imagination wan- 
dered into those regions which conduct to the same object 
: — God, to the same end — futurity, but by different roads. 

1 began to think of mind, for which the earth, in all its 
surpassing beauty and unspeakable variety, was created. 
It was this principle, I knew, had thus thought, and 
through the avenues of whose organs scenes had been 
presented, which were capable of inspiring and elevating 
it to such an extent. What, I asked myself, would be 
the fairest land — the sublimest scenery — the most fertile 
plains— what the wilderness or the desert without mind ? 
The extinction of the mental principle would, I argued, 
be followed by the annihilation of this planetary variety. 



COLLOQUY I. 7 

It is obvious the one was made for the other; and so 
soon as creation had run its course, and death had passed 
upon all men, and all minds been gathered to their last 
homes, I felt conscious that this globe would no longer 
supply a resting-place for the sole of the foot of man, 
but that with the heavens it would pass away, and be no 
more seen. What a revolution this ! and where, in this 
great and mighty change, we are taught and incited to 
enquire, is the never-dying principle, mind ? To what 
purposes had it been applied, while it could call that 
globe its home, its native orb? What was done to give 
it proper directions, and stimulate it to seek for wisdom 
and virtue in the course of its pilgrimage there ? What 
to elevate it above the brute, over whom man ventures to 
call himself lord ? What to rouse it to a lively sense of 
its own responsibility and importance ? — As these ques- 
tions occurred to me, I thought of its nature, the series 
of powers it possesses, the greatness of the privileges it 
enjoys. Ruminating thus, I found myself arrived at a 
spot of inconceivable grandeur : it is one that excites a 
degree of awe by the desolation and boldness of its 
character ; the eye finding no relief, save in the beautiful 
foliage which decks the opposite mountainous bank ; the 
ear hearing nothing but the screeching of the sea-gull, 
or the bubbling of the little rivulet gliding smoothly on 
its course at the bottom of the tremendous precipice on 
which I then stood.* Here I fancied all the Genii of 
a fairy land may revel in their voluptuousness without 
molestation ; and the spirits of another world walk, meet- 
ing no one by the way to whom they could impart a 
portion of that influence which they are reasonably sup- 



* See Note A. 



8 COLLOQUY I. 

posed to possess over men. It was destined, however, I 
should be deceived ; for 

near a rock, 
Where drops the lingering stream, a form I saw 
Resting incumbent, 
Seemingly entranc'd in melancholy thought. 

Till now a solemn gloom had been cast upon my path, 
the stars being the only bodies that afforded me light 
enough to pursue my perilous course with tolerable safety, 
and enable me to enjoy that majestic stillness which is 
peculiar to this valley in a serene and starlight evening. 
The turrets of rock, and the dark green foliage reflected 
the feeble rays of these little luminaries, and gave forth 
a tiny light which prevented their being entirely con- 
cealed from view. In the distant horizon the moon was 
just making herself perceptible, and eclipsing these small 
but welcome bodies in brilliancy. The craggy steeps and 
headlands first received her rays, and by degrees my path, 
which lay far beneath them. Below me the valley was 
in comparative darkness, 

' ' till the moon, 
" Rising in clouded majesty, at length 
" Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light, 
" And, o'er the dark, her silver mantle threw.' ' 

At this juncture my mind was solemnly bent upon those 
strange scenes through which we are all doomed to pass. 
The great and eternal Jehovah stood before my mental 
eye in all his tremendousness ; death and the grave passed 
in review before me, and seemed, for a while, in the 
complete absorption of my thoughts, to lose their sting ; 
while the day of judgment, when the wicked shall call 
upon the mountains and hills to bury them, presented 
a more anomalous mixture of awful events than had 



COLLOQUY I. 9 

ever, on any previous occasion, obtruded themselves upon 
my reflecting moments. Reaching the spot at which I 
had seen the person in silent attitude, he accosted me. 
His appearance was grave and sedate, but the expression 
of his countenance was benevolent and mild. Approach- 
ing me with peculiar grace and ease, and a smile of con- 
descension and benignity, which was just perceptible in 
the dimness of the light, he addressed me in a soft and 
mellifluous voice, as though its intonations and cadence 
found no impediment from uncouth or ill-formed organs 
of speech. — " The magnificence, Sir, of this scene," he 
observed, " is not surpassed in any part of the British 
Island, and scarcely so in any part of the Continent. It 
is one which addresses itself to those powers of the mind 
which are capable of experiencing the emotions of wonder 
and fear, and of tracing retrospectively and prospectively 
the progress of man, and the links of creation, from the 

clod of the valley to the supreme Author of all." 

" These very powers," I replied, " have been singularly 
called forth in me during my evening ramble. The beatific 
visions that have crossed my mind, and which have been, 
as it were, elicited from the scene before us, are such as 
I could scarcely describe. The last vision of any moment, 
however, was of mind itself. It is a subject of constant 
and increasing interest to me, and one with which I 

desire to become more intimately acquainted." ' ' The 

delight you experience," he observed, "in mental recrea- 
tions of this kind is pleasing in the sight of God, and to 
such an one as myself they afford infinite satisfaction. — 
But why seek you so constantly scenes of this character ? 
Is it because the gloom brings a solace to your mind 
already disposed to melancholy ? Your fondness for this 
sombre retreat tells me what reflections are the most 
pleasing to you. I have been long watching your studious 



10 COLLOQUY I. 

posture, and would have approached you sooner, had I 
not been fearful of interrupting the train of your thoughts, 
and cutting short a reverie which I observed was evidently 
pleasing to you. I am one of those individuals who fre- 
quently perambulate sublime scenes like these, but seldom 
suffer myself to be visible to those whom, perchance, I 
may meet. It is only with minds alive to contemplations 
such as yours that I exchange thoughts. A mind 
wrought up to the highest consciousness of Almighty 
dominion, of a pervading Providence, invokes congenial 
spirits, and often those of another world. I am one of 
those spirits. For many years the ground has covered 
my body, which has been subject to the accidents of time. 
I yet live; and you now view me as one who has 
triumphed over the darkness of the grave, and been 
received into the marvellous light of God's glory. Willing 
to meet and converse with such as you, and especially on 
that all-pervading topic — mind, which engaged so much 
of my attention during my earthly sojourn, I have sought 
this favourable opportunity to enter upon a subject of so 
much importance in the economy of nature, and of the 
hidden events of the future/' 

While perceiving in my visitor an airiness of form, a 
majesty of mien, and a grace of attitude, to say nothing 
of his silvery voice, and readiness and flexibility of speech 
that betokened something manifestly superior, I endea- 
voured to reply by summoning a resolution more affected 
perhaps than real, more physical than moral. — What! I 
asked myself, come from that country whence, it is said, 
no traveller is permitted to return ? A degree of awe, 
without the usual accompaniment of incoherence or 
aberration, took possession of my mind while he disclosed 
himself to me. It was not yet unmixed with a degree of 
satisfaction. The idea of conversing with one whom to 



COLLOQUY I. 11 

know could not portend evil, had due effect upon ray 
doubting and awe-stricken spirit. It required no depth 
of argument to convince me that death did not destroy 
the soul, and that the departed may be ministering 
spirits to those whom they had left behind. Young 
has said — 

" Perhaps a thousand demigods descend 

" On every beam we see, to walk with men.'' 

Though not inclined to suspect that so large a concourse 
of spirits pervades these lower regions upon any errand, 
however good, I felt conscious that the reappearance of 
a soul, divested as it were of the gross material elements, 
was not impossible, though unusual and improbable. 
Reasonings and feelings such as these flitted across my 
mind with an inconceivable rapidity. I hastened to reply. 
Tremblings and scarcely crediting my senses, I ventured 
to question the truth of the declaration which my visitor 
made. For an instant it appeared doubtful whether my 
imagination had not deluded my senses. It occurred to 
me that the whole was but a dream ; and still I felt none 
of that disorder and confusion of thought which usually 
attend our dreaming moments. There was a momentary 
struggle between Reason in her brightest character, and 
a fancied delusion. My visitor, naturally anticipating the 
effects of his visit, had assumed throughout the most invi- 
ting air : seeing my perplexity, he endeavoured to remove 
my fears, and to convince me of his spirituality ; for of his 
reality I still thought there was some doubt. In order to 
convince me that he was a disembodied being, he requested 
me to touch his person, which, with some hesitation, and 
a conscious dread of the event, I attempted to do ; but to 
my great surprise I found it was not tangible. That I 
was either in the presence of a spirit, or labouring under 



12 COLLOQUY I. 

a delusion, could no longer be a matter of dispute ; but 
his conversation , together with all circumstances connected 
with the event, soon put an end to my doubts. " To 
convince you of my reality/' he said, " and of the bene- 
volence of my intentions, I wish to place myself in the 
character of a metaphysician and moral philosopher, in 
which I attained some degree of eminence in my earthly 
days, that I may, from time to time, converse with you 
on moral and intellectual subjects, which are far from 
being uninviting to such as you appear to be. In times 
not long past, and within the memory of persons not older 
than yourself, I filled the Professor's chair of Moral 
Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. The name 
of Dugald Stewart is not perhaps unknown to you." 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

That is, indeed, a great name, and an exalted office ; 
but I cannot fail to notice that in the interval you occu- 
pied this chair, you strenuously opposed a system in the 
advocacy of which I am both proud and pleased to have 
my name recorded. It is a system that bids fair to be 
more generally tolerated, even if it does not promise to 
be essentially useful to all civilized communities. The 
system to which I allude is Phrenology ; and though but 
a novice in the matter compared to its great originators 
and promoters, I enter fearlessly into any combat which 
seeks to overthrow it, or any conversation by which it 
may receive strength at my hands. What has been the 
source of ridicule to many persons, has been in reality 
nothing more than the budding of a great science, which 
gains strength as it grows, and admirers as it blossoms. 
I know no subject to which I would so willingly draw 
your attention as this, if I may be permitted to have a 
choice in the matter. The abstruser parts may not be 



COLLOQUY I. 13 

suitable to discuss in a dialogue ; but that is no reason 
why, in aiming at an useful, scientific, and moral end, we 
should exclude the subject altogether. Your intention 
being to converse upon matters akin to that in which 
you justly attained so much celebrity, and approached, 
if not eclipsed, every other philosophic sun in your time, 
I entreat you to devote at least some portion of the 
time to Phrenology which you propose spending with me. 
The old system is too stale, if not untrue. Your virtues 
and excellencies stand recorded in the page of history ; 
and your philosophy will long be known for its depth 
and research. In my memory your name is revered ; but 
I could wish to have seen you more favourably disposed 
towards the new philosophy introduced by Gall and 
Spurzheim, and which they so ably and zealously pro- 
pounded and defended. 

STEWART. 

Though unwilling to give my unqualified assent to 
all the details of your doctrine, I have no objection 
to give them some consideration. I was, in truth, 
recognised as an opponent to the system you embrace ; 
I rejected the advances of Spurzheim, whom, at first, I 
looked upon as a visionary; and discovered myself, in 
every respect, hostile to any encroachment upon the esta- 
blished systems connected with the science of mind, 
regarding it as an innovation which the experience of the 
world did not sanction. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

That I should have an opportunity of exchanging 
thoughts with one in whom prejudice can no longer 
exist, is a privilege I never anticipated, and one which 
I cannot too dearly prize. It were not to be expected 



14 COLLOQUY I. 

that any individual so exalted, and who had entered upon 
a happier state, should take the trouble of enquiring into 
the progress, or feel pleasure in the advancement, of any 
philosophy connected with this globe. 

STEWART. 

True — it may seem unaccountable that I, who live in a 
region so separated from you, and where piety and wisdom 
are the most essential elements, and where philosophers 
are assembled from every quarter of this globe, should feel 
sufficient interest in your sciences, your virtues, and your 
morals, as to bring myself into contact with them again, 
enquire into their progress, and rejoice in their advance- 
ment. My sphere is one of enchantment, where rea- 
sonings such as Plato's, and musings such as Homer's, 
give an additional lustre to the scene. It is an inter- 
mediate state, where its occupants look forward to the 
day of judgment, when the great archangel shall sound 
the last trump, and all nations and people be gathered 
together before God. We wait to behold the long- 
expected events which we have not yet been permitted to 
see — " the sapphire thrones standing undazzling to the 
sight " — the face, hitherto invisible, welcoming the blessed 
to their mansions on high, with a smile of benignance, 
and mercy, and love. We wait to hear celestial harps 
hymning the praise of God, and the hallelujahs of the 
angelic choirs who are inspired by the presence of the 
Deity— 

" Where dwells love, and joy, and pure delight, 
" Where swiftly flee the roseate hours away ; 

" And spirits of heaven mark not their rapid flight, 
" Since all's one boundless, bright, eternal day." 

The character of our present enjoyments is altogether 



COLLOQUY I. 15 

independent of those inconceivable scenes described in the 
Revelations. It is simply mind meeting mind ; but though 
not permitted to pry into the deeper mysteries of God 
concerning the state upon which we are engaged or appointed 
to enter, we are yet, in some degree, like Solomon, in 
terrestrial matters, who, with a heart deeply inspired, ele- 
vated, and enlarged, comprehended all nature, " from the 
hyssop to the cedar." Into our minds has been shed a 
great and marvellous light ; but the sphere to which we 
have been transported is so much more congenial to their 
expansion, that our visits to this earth are attended by an 
evident diminution of that light's lustre. Yet whatever 
that light is, it is borrowed, as much as that of the beau- 
tifully full orb we now see rising above the summit of 
yonder hill. Though curiosity may bring us among you, 
no addition is made to the peculiar happiness which is 
attached to our ethereal constitution, except when we have 
occasion to exult in the piety and virtue of those in whom 
the whole family of angels and saints feel a lively interest. 
One of the greatest pleasures you have is the retrospection 
of the past; this affords us but little; as that, and all 
other earthly felicities fall very short of the perfection of 
our enjoyments. " The soul/' linked to its earthly frame, 
"is enlivened by looking back upon past enjoyments: 
it is a blessing next to that of happiness in actual pos- 
session ; the past and the present only are certain — the 
future is darkened by the cloud of obscurity, or dazzling 
in the ever-changing light of Hope." Of the expan- 
siveness of our minds, in our own pure element, you can 
have no conception, nor would any revelation from me 
give you an adequate idea of it. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This I can easily conceive. St. Paul, who was caught 
up to the third heaven, and into paradise, ventured not, 



16 COLLOQUY I. 

on his return, to give a description of what he heard and 
saw. In paradise he heard and saw, he says, unspeakable 
things, which it is not lawful or possible for man to 
utter. He makes no allusion to heaven, as though it was 
too awfully grand and glorious for him even to refer 
to. How ineffectually has St. John, in the Revelations, 
described his vision or dream ; nor was St. Stephen, to 
whom the heavens were opened, and he permitted to see 
the glory of God, and "Jesus standing at the right hand 
of God," able to describe the splendour and magnificence 
of the scene. These are all miracles— visions, which 
these chosen persons were allowed to behold, but not 
to represent by any human words. It is not, indeed, in 
the power of any earth-born language to convey a notion 
of such glorious wonders. It would require something 
more than human intellect to bring them within the limit 
of our comprehension. 

STEWART. 

The word unspeakable may be rendered secret, and 
the words of St. Paul read thus — " I heard things which 
neither can, nor ought to be described." It is impossible 
for mortal man to comprehend so much as the nature 
and joys of a redeemed spirit, much less the splendour 
of the heavenly temple. I have as little power to depict 
to you the glories of an invisible state as Paul, Peter, and 
John had. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

It was the opinion of Grotius that no inferior being 
could comprehend one exalted above himself, unless, 
indeed, the superior revealed the nature of his own 
elevation. 



COLLOQUY I. 17 



STEWART. 

From experience I find that an idea of this elevation 
is not communicable. I cannot describe to you explicitly 
in what consists our enjoyment. It is borrowed from a 
Source of whose attributes we know little ; nor do we see 
whence radiate the beams which bring so much brightness, 
and such a perpetual light and inconceivable felicity to 
our element. Here — 

" We talk of beauties which we never saw, 
" And fancy raptures that we never knew." 

Unable to judge of our own sensations so mysteriously 
delightful — incapable of understanding wherein consists 
the fulness of our joy, we cannot express what we feel ; 
particularly when occasions call us to this globe, where 
the soaring of the intellect is not so brilliant and strong, 
nor the warmth of the affections so ardent and beatific. 
From the nature of this planet, it is perhaps as necessary 
that the faculties of man should be sustained and displayed 
by means of material parts, as that a sound should be 
propagated by means of air. But since the mind can live 
disjointed from its material tenement, as my own expe- 
rience proves, it must, of necessity, be distinct in nature 
from that tenement, though not destined to exist or act 
on earth without it, unless it be sent from above. 
Through whatever media our sensations might have been 
produced on earth, they suffer abatement only in their 
violence and abuse when separated from such gross media. 
In my time there was an opinion, formed certainly on 
unsubstantial grounds, that the interval elapsing between 
death and the resurrection is to the soul a state of sleep. 
Inactivity, however, is a property not belonging to a spirit. 



18 COLLOQUY I. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

It has been the opinion of sages of old — it is the 
opinion of some infidels of the present day, that the soul 
absolutely dies with the body. 

STEWART. 

To talk of the death of the soul, when there are so 
many direct testimonies to the contrary, is a proof of a 
debased heart. — But the evening being far spent, we will 
leave this subject till another opportunity offer for our 
meeting. Meanwhile, learn to look upon me as a welcome 
visitor, friendly to you, individually, and well-disposed 
towards the whole human race. Till then adieu ! 

At that instant my companion vanished from my 
sight. His disappearance was not the least remarkable part 
of this singular phenomenon. He was gone — I knew not 
whither nor how : his departure was momentary — instan- 
taneous. He had conversed with me as one human ; but 
he left me like one who had omnipotence at his command. 
Now visible, now invisible — 

" And what seemed corporeal 

" Melted as breath into the wind." 

The inimitable Burns has compared sensual pleasure 

* * To snow that falls upon a river— 

" A moment white — then gone for ever !" 

This disappearance of snow may convey a pretty accurate 
notion of my visitor's vanishing. The change was as 
rapid as a flash of lightning, without occasioning the 
slightest commotion in the air, or any perceptible altera- 



COLLOQUY I. 19 

tion in any thing except my own feelings, which were 
indescribable. I was not prepared for an event so sudden, 
for a mutation so abrupt. I felt, for a moment, incon- 
solable at the loss, for he seemed a newly-acquired friend 
— one whose experience I could trust, and from whom 
consolation might be derived: and yet an occasional 
sensation of fear intermingled itself with my hopes and 
sympathies, sufficient to disturb my repose, and some- 
times dark enough to cast a gloom into those avenues 
which were wont to afford comfort and relief. To think, 
was to become entangled in a labyrinth more inextricable 
than ever — to disbelieve, was idle and impossible. Be it 
as it may, I determined to keep the matter a secret, lest 
perchance, by some strange fatality, I should be deceived; 
and lest the incredulous should ridicule, and think that 
insanity, instead of a ghost, had visited me. — The moon 
was throwing her beams on the verdant heath, the dark 
green foliage, the jutting rock. By her soft light I 
leisurely retraced my steps, and began to think of our 
next meeting, both longing and fearing to see my visitor 
again. 



c2 



(20) 



COLLOQUY II. 



On a fine evening, a little before sunset, I rambled 
towards the Valley of Rocks. It was the close of a lovely 
day, and from a distant dell was heard the little nightin- 
gale's wild and melodious song, which echoed and re- 
echoed in the valley I had just reached. At the extreme 
end of this valley stands the Castle Rock, an insulated 
pile of stone, rugged and precipitous, rising loftily and 
abruptly to the height of three or four hundred feet from 
the beach which bounds the Bristol Channel. On the 
land-side its summit may be approached by a somewhat 
gradual slope. Here it is cut off from the main promon- 
tory by a ravine of half its depth, as though, in this 
ravine, which forms a sort of arm to the valley, there 
had at one period been a river which poured its contents 
into the sea below, thus forming, it may be conceived, a 
beautiful cascade. From this ravine, if such it may be 
called, a magnificent sea- view is presented to the eye. 
On either side rise towering pillars of rock ; across the 
channel are perceived the Welch coast and mountains ; and 
a little to the left, at evening, the setting sun sinking 
below the horizon, and throwing its feeble rays on the still 
waters from which they are reflected, casting a light of 
varied hues and softness. This valley is known to the 
Devonians as the Valley of Rocks ; it was formerly called 



COLLOQUY II. 21 

the Valley of Stones ; and at a still more remote period, 
the Valley of Deans or Danes. Being bounded on both 
sides by lofty piles of rock, it was doubtless selected by 
the Danish soldiers for an encampment. Its contiguity 
to the sea, and to a fine, undulated country, rendered it a 
place of great security. To have found a better station 
in those days of rapine and strife was almost impossible. 
Lynton is situated at the entrance of this valley, which 
is about a mile in length. It terminates in a beautiful 
woody glen, which bends its course inland, with here and 
there knolls, many hundred feet high, covered with small 
oaks, which, when in leaf, give a peculiar charm to the 
scenery. Contrasted with the huge beds and piles of rock, 
it appears, perhaps, to greater advantage than it other- 
wise would. From these knolls the sea and opposite coast 
are noble objects, especially from a spot called Duty Point, 
which is rather the termination of a headland of gigantic 
height, yawning terrifically over the channel's bank, 
where the sea-gull is watching for prey, and the little bark 
appears a distant object — a mere speck on the ocean, 
from the great elevation of the cliff*. 

In the valley itself, which is so much talked of, the 
tourist may, perhaps, be disappointed : but a walk is 
connected with it that forms the chief point of attraction, 
and which is grand beyond conception. To the valley 
belongs a wildness, a desolation, and a lonesomeness, pe- 
culiarly its own. Not a tree nor a shrub graces its banks. 
It recalls to our memory the description given of the 
sites of ancient Babylon, and other by-gone eastern cities, 
by Keith and Buckingham. It is awe-striking — sublime 
without being beautiful. In the evening a gloom pre- 
vails, which gives it a still more solemn appearance. 
This gloominess is attributable to the high promontories 
obstructing the rays of the sun, now setting behind 



22 COLLOQUY II. 

them. In boisterous weather, when the wind comes 
whistling by, and the surge of the sea is beating vehe- 
mently against the towering cliffs, sending up its spray 
to a great height, and occasioning a reverberating sound 
like distant thunder, there is a solemn grandeur about 
the whole scene that defies description. A fitter place 
could not well be conceived than this in impetuous 
weather for calling up spectral illusions in the mind. 
Here Fancy, roaming at large, may indulge in all her 
ghostly and terrific reveries, and even hear some unknown 
voice in the winds telling you, in the words of Warton, 
in his " Pleasures of Melancholy," that a 

" ghostly shape 
" At distance seen, invites, with beck'ning hand, 
" Thy lonesome steps.' ' 

How often have I watched the small, frail bark from 
this point, when the sea threatened immediate destruc- 
tion to her and her little crew ! How intently have I 
gazed on the wrecks sometimes spread over the watery 
waste, the relics of which were the ensigns of death 
to those toil-worn mariners who, while reposing in sleep, 
had been roused by the cry of the watch ! 

" Arise, O sleeper ! oh, arise and see, 
" There's not a twiny thread 'twixt death and thee I 
" This darksome place thou measur'st, is thy grave, 
" And sudden death rides proud on yonder wave." 

Quarks. 
Here have I 

" stood, till through the vast profound, 
" Dismal afar, but more astounding near, 
" A mingled tumult struck my startled ear — 

" The vaulted deep and trembling shore resound. 
" Far on the right the bellowing flood descends ; 
" Above, the frowning rock for ever bends." 

Boyd's Dante. 



COLLOQUY II. 23 

It was at a period, however, when the channel was 
not disturbed by storm or tempest — when not so much as 
a breath of wind, nor a ripple on the sea, was perceptible 
— and when a still light was cast on the shadowed rocks, 
that the Professor again made himself visible. The 
first glance occasioned a slight tremor through my frame, 
which was soon dissipated by his placid and inviting 
demeanour. By the time I had recovered from my mo- 
mentary terror he spoke. His voice appeared more sweet 
and melodious than ever. The interest he had excited 
in my mind gave a charm to every word and look. It 
was a spell I was unwilling to break ; for I confess it 
grew stronger and stronger as he continued to excite my 
imagination, give food for my reason, and delight to my 
senses. His conversation was the more captivating as it 
grew familiar to me ; and I began to think I should look 
for his periodical visits with impatience and infatuation. 
It even occurred to me that this enthusiasm may become 
an evil, by engrossing too much of my attention, and 
taking me from duties, social and moral, which it was 
incumbent on me to perform. At present it had done 
this, for to divide my thoughts was a task which I had 
neither the will nor the power to effect. We all know 
the overpowering authority of the will — its wonder-work- 
ing influence. To that man yields ; it is a magnet that 
draws him whithersoever it would. Reason is its slave ; 
sentiment its handmaid ; for all is brought in subjec- 
tion to its authority. It is, unfortunately, too much 
under the dominion of our imaginative faculties — too 
much the servant of our passions, and, by them, leads 
us to the commission of evil. It is a baneful attribute 
when not properly directed, urging man to the perpetra- 
tion of the deepest crimes, which are varied in proportion 
to its capriciousness. 



24 COLLOQUY II. 

STEWART. 

Our last interview was one of great moment, as it 

referred to events connected with the future. To-day 

we must consider the particular object of my visit, which 

has more immediate reference to the present and the 

past. I do not, however, intend to lay restrictions upon 

our converse, to the exclusion of such digressions as may 

arise out of the subject in question, and be, in their 

turn, of a profitable and entertaining cast. Whenever 

any thing useful can be elicited, let it be done. We 

must know nothing of fastidiousness, nothing of that 

excessive caution which affects to be wise and lenient 

under the cover of being charitable. Whatever abuse 

presents itself, suffer it not to pass unnoticed. Unless it 

be drawn from its retreat, and animadverted upon, it will 

continue its pernicious influence. It must be exposed to 

the gaze of the world in all its hideousness and deformity, 

that men may no longer be duped by its speciousness. 

There is a false delicacy in not exposing prevalent errors, 

on the presumption that acrimony and jealousy have 

prompted to their exposure. The most philanthropic 

man hopes to see them expunged — the wisest endeavours 

to effect it. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I readily concur with you in this opinion. It is 
obvious that the improvement of the world is checked by 
attempts to conceal those defects which have stolen insi- 
diously into our social systems, and corrupted the springs 
of society. It is delightful, however, to know that such 
defects are merely of a temporary duration — that they 
lose their force and very existence in the mansions of the 
redeemed, I have thought much of our late interview. 



COLLOQUY II. 25 

The felicitous account you have given of the intermediate 
state is one upon which none who have not yet tasted of 
its sweets, can dwell without considerable emotion. It 
were almost to be desired that we had a knowledge of the 
happiness of that state, if not of Heaven, though not 
permitted to enjoy it. Not so, however, if the event 
would be as unhappy, and inglorious, and sinful as the 
Rev. Dr. Taylor, the friend of the immortal Johnson, 
assumes, who says (i a previous and circumstantial 
knowledge of the felicity of Heaven" is not given, u lest, 
overpowered by the inestimable and eternal reward, we 
should be induced to anticipate it by a voluntary and 
premature extinction of our present existence, and, of 
course, by a desertion of that post which Providence has 
assigned us." 

STEWART. 

This idea of Taylor was greatly commended for its 
originality, but contravened for its inconsistency. He 
most probably borrowed it from Shakspeare, who says, 
in relation to the Book of Fate, 

" Oh, if this were seen, 
" The happiest youth, — viewing his progress through, — 
" What perils past, what crosses to ensue, 
" Would shut the book, and sit him down and die." 

2c? Henry 4th. 

The idea is one that would suggest itself to any mind 
accustomed to reflect on the exaltation of celestial glories, 
and the advantages and disadvantages that might arise 
from their perceptible revelation to us. In the dream 
imputed to Linnaeus, the renowned botanist, a similar 
notion is conveyed in these words : — " It must not be 
revealed to man too clearly what are the glories of that 
exalted state, lest he should be unwilling to remain his 



26 COLLOQUY II. 

appointed time in this, and rushing immaturely into it, 
should fail in the desired end." 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This is a gratuitous assumption, irreconcileable with 
reason, yet according with the views of Lucan, who says 
that " the gods conceal from men the happiness of death, 
that they may endure life." To wish for an interview 
with one of those from whose bourn, it is said, no tra- 
veller returns, is a laudable curiosity ; but if it be desired 
for the sake of confirming belief, it savours of infidelity. 

STEWART. 

It is questioning the authenticity of Scripture. He 
who desires it, is wanting in faith. It is not fit you 
should know the mysteries of another world. You are 
disqualified, by reason of your nature, to comprehend 
them, much less to build any species of faith on them. 
I would have you turn your thoughts to what is revealed. 
If you believe not this, you will believe nothing. It is 
the strongest evidence, because it is the word of God. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Seeing, however, the unbelief of the human heart as 
regards a futurity — seeing the absorption of the mind in 
the engrossing vanities of the world, and the prostitution 
of the noble faculties which Adam has transmitted to us 
— faculties fitted, when unabused, for the highest desti- 
nies, even for eternity in heaven, it were, apparently, to 
be desired that members of another and a happier world 
should sometimes appear in that visible, though intan- 
gible, shape in which you now stand before me. In this 
case palpable evidence, such as could not be cheated by a 
delusive imagination or a perverted reason, would be 



COLLOQUY II. 27 

destructive to that incredulity under which all labour 
more or less, and be the foundation of a faith from which 
none would desire to be released. So, at least, it appears 
to such finite reasoning as the mind here can employ ; 
but a higher testimony, whose authority we dare not 
dispute, reduces such an argument to a mere fallacy, for 
we should not believe though one rose from the dead. 
Reason, it is true, is unwilling to assent to this declara- 
tion. Though, like the cameleon, it is constantly under- 
going a change, experiencing, like our own planet in its 
diurnal and annual revolutions, a perpetual change, it 
rarely becomes subject to the defecating influence of the 
Sun of Righteousness in his fulness, his strength, and his 
majesty : the mind is comet-like in its movements. But 
on this one might ponder until the whole catalogue of 
enormities, deep with the dye of selfishness and scepti- 
cism, perpetrated by this monster, human reason, appears 
before you, sickening and terrifying even to behold. In 
speaking of the mind, it is the business of the phrenolo- 
gist to treat of its habits and tendencies. There is a long 
chain of faculties inherent in man ; but if we touch upon 
its constitution without including the abuses, the vices, 
it generates, we do injustice to the cause, and leave un- 
touched the most essential feature of the whole. If we 
talk of the constitution of a government, and say nothing 
of the habits of the people living under it, and for whom 
that government was framed, we are guilty of an omission 
which few circumstances can warrant. In the bestowal 
of our faculties, the Creator thought little of his work in 
comparison with the effect it might produce. He gave 
them that they might burst forth in vigorous obedience, 
and that the seed they dropped might spring up, yielding a 
harvest of piety and virtue. When God created the 
earth, and all things preparatory to the vital part of it, 



28 COLLOQUY II. 

he thought of the happiness he should dispense. He 
looked forward to the season s, to the fragrance of flowers, 
the warbling of birds, the beauties of the landscape, the 
morning and the evening — in fact, the whole of nature, 
producing harmony, and love, and unfeigned and pure 
rejoicings among his rational creatures ; affections and 
rejoicings of which nothing save mind can partake, yet 
about which the cold, calculating philosopher concerns 
himself so little. 

STEWART. 

So long as religion is not supplanted by metaphysical 
argument, such as mental discussions usually involve — so 
long as the tendencies of the mind are moralized upon 
with the view of discovering of what the faculties, whence 
those tendencies proceed, consist — so long as the phrenolo- 
gist, in his hope to elicit truth, does good by commenting 
upon the prevailing vices, the abuses of nature, it were 
much to be wished that ridicule should not daunt him, 
nor indifference paralyze his exertions. But the study of 
phrenology would seem to hold out no inducement for 
comments of this nature. I have not of late canvassed 
my views on the subject ; but in by-gone days this study 
seemed to perpetuate an idea of which I could not divest 
myself, that it gave the mind a fatal bias which no cir- 
cumstances had the means of remedying. The principles 
of your doctrine are plainly these, and upon them I build 
my creed as to the tendency they appear to have in keep- 
ing the will of man subservient to his organic conforma- 
tion. You say that the brain, which I doubt not is the 
most delicate and beautiful piece of workmanship belong- 
ing to the body, is divided into different portions, which 
have each a distinct mode of action. If I mistake not, 
you further declare that in proportion to the number and 



COLLOQUY II. 29 

size of the molecules, or atoms, which each portion con- 
tains, so is the strength of the mental emotion, whether 
it develop itself in motive or action, elicited from them. 
Upon the strength of these hypotheses I argue thus. 
The force of any particular emotion of the mind which 
elicits bad as well as good motives being determined in 
extent by the size of the medium through which it is 
given, then that force, whatever it be, that dominance of 
one mental bias over another, is rendered subservient to 
the medium, like a vibration to a musical instrument, 
through which it is displayed. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

With these principles it would be difficult for the 
most fastidious phrenological writer to find fault. Im- 
partial reasoning will, however, shew how very ill 
adapted they are to lead to the inference which appears 
to grow out of them, i. e. the fatality of mind. Tt is a 
fond wish, cherished by most phrenologists, that an infer- 
ence of this kind, so diametrically opposed to the views 
of a Christian nation, and to that Holy Book by which it 
is intended the whole mental economy of man shall be 
governed, should be expunged. Against your early im- 
pression there are many arguments to be advanced. I 
would take your own simile as an appropriate vehicle of 
defence. A musical vibration is not alone dependent on 
its instrument. Take a violin for example : first it 
requires some independent agent to move its springs, and 
then air to give a vibrating sound. The larger, too, that 
violin is, the more powerful is the sound it gives forth. It 
is just so with the brain. It requires some agent apart 
from itself to move it ; and those motions, when given, 
are under the influence of external means, directed by 
them, impelled by them, the brain yet having a reserving 



30 COLLOQUY II. 

authority : like the violin, it is passive until operated 
upon by causes having a stronger impression in propor- 
tion to the size — the constitution of the instrument 
which is used as the medium. 

STEWART. 

Phrenology viewed in such a light has the effect of 
dissipating, in no inconsiderable degree, that formidable 
objection which most anti-phrenologists have been ready 
to urge against it. The view, I say, cancels a notion 
which has long darkened the sceptical hemisphere. I 
doubt not its truth, because I can adduce no cogent rea- 
sons to overthrow it. But there are other objections 
which require some refutation ; and as the prejudices 
which this orb's inhabitants imbibe, will not be removed 
by the argument involved in your explanation, without 
other and more cogent ones, it would be well if you 
more explicitly stated and enforced them. The more 
opposing forces you provide yourself with, the more for- 
midable will be the station you occupy, and the more 
likely will you be to come off victorious in the battle 
which phrenologists have been so long waging, and it 
would appear without having encroached much hitherto 
upon their enemies' ground. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

In Mr. Combe's " Constitution of Man," a book of 
considerable thought and ingenuity, there is, in my 
opinion, one error tantamount to that which is sufficient 
to exclude phrenology from the minds of the Christian 
public. I allude to the declaration, purporting to be a 
deduction, such as the anti-phrenologist would draw, in 
reference to the tendency of this science. It is this — " a 
man cannot become penetrated by the love of God, except 



COLLOQUY II. 31 

through the aid of sound and sufficient material organs ; 
and I venture to affirm, that the influence of the organs 
does not terminate with these extreme cases, but operates 
in all circumstances and in every individual, aiding or 
impeding the reception and efficacy even of revelation." — 
Mr. Combe's zeal and talent must secure him the respect 
of the public. The argumentative and lucid scope of his 
mind, which has portrayed the features of a principle 
so wonderfully important in the philosophic era, and so 
marvellously concerned in the destinies of futurity, gives 
him a high standing among the moralists and philoso- 
phers of the day, in the attainment of which every man 
would feel himself fortunate. But this is a blemish in 
his philosophy. To this subject, however, we will revert 
on some future occasion. Meanwhile, rest assured that 
phrenology has no fatalizing tendency, so far as religious 
emanations and devotional feelings are concerned. 

STEWART. 

Is it not deemed an objection to phrenology that the 
higher classes of society are indisposed to admit its 
truth ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Yes : but this conclusion is very premature. If you 
allude to the nobility, I find no difficulty in furnishing a 
reply. Our situations in life have not presented us with 
passports to the closets and retired haunts of men in the 
highest circles, where alone the sober lucubrations of the 
mind are poured forth. We may, perchance, meet them 
at the banquet of the rich and noble, and in other festive 
scenes, where no other allusion is made to phrenology 
than in a jesting or ironical manner ; such as that young 
lady can have no other organ than that of marvellousness, 



32 COLLOQUY II. 

as her head is full of nothing but romance and fiction ; 
or that gentleman can have no social organs, for he talks 
of retiring from society, disgusted with its levities and 
inconsistencies, into some sequestered spot, where he can 
hear nothing but the bleating of the sheep, the horn of 
the shepherd, or the song of the ploughman. The pur- 
suits of the higher classes are such as do not lead them 
to studies so comparatively devoid of interest, and so 
involved in abstrusities as this science ; and hence we can 
draw no inference from the scepticism of men who are 
attracted too much by other pursuits to give this subject 
due consideration. 

STEWART. 

True. They are, besides, not a writing body ; there- 
fore, whatever opinions they have, are not handed down to 
the world in the only true form from whence we can 
gain proper information of the sentiments of their minds. 
We have nothing but their verbal testimony, which all 
will acknowledge is but slight. One feels anxious to 
conciliate men of rank in its favour, if it really deserve 
such favour, seeing the influence of fashionable support. 
Though the walks of phrenology may be strewed with 
flowers of variegated hues, there is a sombreness in their 
tints which renders them little attractive to men whose 
natural element is one of great brilliancy and gaiety. 
Not that such personages are incapacitated by nature for 
intellectual pursuits ; for I have always considered that, 
with elevation of birth, there is commonly an elevated 
intellect, and almost universally an expanded forehead, 
which you admit is an indication of intellectual ability. 
In my intercourse with the nobility, I have met with 
but few who gave a willing countenance to this doctrine. 
I pretend not to say on what this unwillingness depends. 



COLLOQUY u. 33 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



My intercourse with this class is too slight to suffer 
me to form any judgment in the matter ; yet it is suffi- 
cient to allow me to say, that I owe to a young lady of 
noble birth the passionate fondness I have conceived for 
this science. This lady I had the good fortune to meet 
at the table of a common friend. The strong intellectual 
bias of her mind, conjoined with the beauty of her 
person, rendered her an object of general interest. With 
the most unaffected air, she enquired of me whether that 
beautiful science phrenology was gaining ground among 
the literati of the day. As a physician, she took it for 
granted I was fully able to answer the question, looking 
upon the science as intimately connected with medicine. 
Anxious to give a satisfactory answer to one so interesting, 
and ashamed of the advantage she- had, in being better 
conversant than myself with that which it was my par- 
ticular business to know, I felt confused, and attempted 
to evade the question by professing myself sceptical. 
With this reply, however, she was not satisfied, and per- 
ceiving my indecision, which arose entirely from igno- 
rance, she proposed to enter fully into particulars before 
we parted, for which purpose I retired to the drawing- 
room soon after the ladies. Here she entered with 
enthusiasm into the subject upon which we may now be 
supposed to have met. I listened attentively to the fair 
advocate of phrenology ; and when she discussed the 
merits of the science, interspersing her arguments with 
many lively anecdotes, — when, with a pleasing address, 
heightened by the persuasiveness of her manner, the 
ease, fluency, and grace of her language, she told me of 
the good which was the probable result of its promulga- 
tion, and of the benefit which society in general would 



34 COLLOQUY II. 

receive, I was irresistibly led to place some confidence in 
what she advanced, though it sufficed not to persuade 
me. The reproof, for such I found it, had a desirable 
effect. Deville himself could not have pleaded the cause 
with greater energy. 

STEWART. 

Had the enthusiasm of this lady, whose person and 
manners seem to have had more attractions for you than 
the science whose cause she advocated, any effect upon 
her family by inducing them to think as she thought, 
and feel as she felt ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

They were not inattentive to the arguments she ad- 
vanced and the facts she adduced; but they were too 
indifferent to the whole matter to give it an impartial 
investigation, or to place full reliance on all she was 
enabled to bring forward. Her nervous pleading, how- 
ever, had a different effect upon myself. I took the 
subject into consideration, gave it, for a short period, my 
undivided attention, and then it was I discovered that I 
had been living in darkness and rejecting a science 
capable of yielding much useful information, much 
amusement and gratification — one on which the happi- 
ness and prosperity of families, nay, of a nation, might 
be made, perhaps, in some measure, to depend. 

STEWART. 

If the cold reception, perhaps I may add ridicule, 
which phrenology has met with among the higher classes 
of society do not seriously affect its truth, it is at least 
rendered dubious by the great hesitation long manifested 
in schools of learning, and by men of talent, to give it 



COLLOQUY II. 35 

the least sanction as an inductive, or other than a fan- 
tastical science. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Fantastical you have said. Phrenology is undeserving 
the ridicule it has met with. If merit is due to Locke, 
Reid, and Descartes, it is equally due to Gall, Spurz- 
heim, and Combe. They are men who have trod in the 
same path of science. The main object of both classes 
has been to develop the constitution of the human mind. 
One has spoken of it as unconnected with organs, the 
other refers you to it through the medium of the brain. 
One hopes to elucidate the matter by reasoning alone, 
the other by reasoning and observation combined. The 
phrenologist endeavours to prove that the mind has a 
certain number of inherent, immaterial faculties common 
to all men, and respectively or individually manifested by 
different material parts, while the metaphysician passes 
by these inherent elements, and alludes, more particu- 
larly, to those spontaneous evolutions of the mind under 
emotion which constitute, in themselves, nothing more 
nor less than the operations or effects of an internal 
cause that is by him overlooked. The philosophy of 
both orders is profound, and as philosophers of no ordi- 
nary qualifications, must phrenologists be ranked. Can- 
vass their motives, and they will be found good and 
disinterested; put their talents to the test, and what 
mentalists shall be seen to outstrip them ? Spurzheim, 
not only anatomized the brain, and discovered what 
others had failed to perceive, but he dissected, as it were, 
the mental principle itself, laid bare its motives and 
actions, its tendencies and sympathies — the real elements 
of its constitution. His disciples are merely following 
the course he pursued ; clearing away, meanwhile, all 
d 2 



36 COLLOQUY II. 

incumbrances, and attempting to break down the factious 
and fastidious barrier which public opinion has raised 
against it. On this barrier the word prejudice is written 
in characters so legible that all may see them who view 
the science with a tolerant and impartial eye. This has 
proved itself a sad obstacle to the progress of phrenology. 
In your time, especially, there was a disinclination to 
recognize phrenology on the ground of its not being a 
sober piece of philosophy, or even so much as a system 
from whence may issue some new light, some increasing 
interest, some ample testimony, some profit and advan- 
tage in a moral point of view. 

STEWART. 

Has then this disinclination become less evident in 
those who are capable of judging of the merits or demerits 
of this subject ? To loosen the shackles of discord is to 
break the bonds of impiety, for perpetual wrangling, 
whether it be in science, in morals, or in religion, must 
engender personal feelings inimical to the well-being of 
man. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Of late the science has gained ground considerably 
among individual members of learned bodies, among men 
of undisputed talents. But one reason why the doctrine 
has been so little tolerated by such persons, is the little 
consideration they have given it: nor have the unfair 
reviews of phrenological works that have been put forth 
from time to time, had a trifling effect in checking the 
enterprising mind or the curiosity of the public. These 
notices have been unfair from their containing deductions 
having a ridiculous cast, and not warranted by the pre- 
mises whence they were drawn. Your own countryman, 



COLLOQUY II. 37 

Jeffrey, perverted, misconstrued, and misunderstood the 
literal meaning of the phrenological productions he criti- 
cised, and hence drew inferences which facts did not 
justify. Mr. George Combe's reply to this attack is a 
noble defence of the science he advocates, and a most 
satisfactory exposure of his antagonist's weakness or want 
of candour. As with Jeffrey's critiques, so has it been 
with those of most other reviewers. They have had 
weight, however, with the public mind, and given a fan- 
tastical colouring to the science which time only can 
remove. I never yet saw a review against phrenology 
wherein the meaning of the phrenologist was not per- 
verted; wherein unskilfulness and almost total ignorance 
of the doctrine were not distinctly evident. I speak not 
of the talent of the reviewers, which has often displayed 
itself with vigour and energy, but I speak of their total 
unfitness for their office, in this instance, by reason of 
their manifest ignorance of that which they pretend to 
review. I look upon phrenology as being as difficult a 
subject to understand as is Medicine, or Law, or The- 
ology, and it would be more than ridiculous, nay posi- 
tively unfair, in a person, knowing nothing of either of 
these departments, to sit down and review the compo- 
sition of a Divine, a Lawyer, or a Physician, whose 
especial business it is to be conversant with the doctrines 
they explain, the precepts they inculcate. To bring for- 
ward instances in proof of my assertion would be a work 
of supererogation, so numerous are they. Every phre- 
nologist can bear testimony to this truth ; every one is 
ready to aver that phrenologists have been unfairly dealt 
by in this respect ; and that it has given an unfavourable 
bias to the public mind, more especially to those persons 
who place implicit confidence in the opinions of reviewers. 
The idea, too, of discovering the motives, talents, and 



38 COLLOQUY II. 

secret tendency of the mind by bumps (as they are 
called) upon the scull, is made to appear in such a ridi- 
culous point of view, as to preclude the possibility of it 
being looked upon through any other medium than that 
of prejudice. I am satisfied this has hitherto formed a 
serious obstacle. Imperfectly considered it bears an un- 
reasonable character, nor has it ceased to have effect upon 
men who were afterwards led to see the importance of 
the truth it conveyed. 

STEWART. 

But why, if it be both an useful and philosophical 
system, should it have been so long excluded from our 
recognized schools of learning ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

That our Colleges and our Halls, and other established 
institutions of the country have so long rejected it, or 
withheld their cordial assent to the principles it involves, 
after the unfavourable introduction it received from the 
reviewers, when first promulgated to effect in this country, 
now about thirty years ago, is not to be wondered at. 
Besides, the great difficulty there is in reducing it to fixed 
principles, so far as its application is concerned, and 
which takes nothing from its truth, is another objection 
to its being inculcated in seats of learning, where we know 
it is not the business to institute, but merely to propagate 
doctrines. It is not an university, nor any regularly 
organized body of men formed into a society, which 
establish doctrines. It is rather their prerogative to 
receive, adopt, and disseminate or teach that which, 
having been first suggested by some original mind, is 
eventually formed into a system, and that, previously to 



COLLOQUY II. 39 

their receiving it. Besides, other sciences have met with 
equal neglect in their infancy from learned bodies, and 
afterwards been regularly adopted and promulgated by 
them. No person disputes the infantile state of phre- 
nology, and no one would expect to see it, in such a 
state, made a branch of education or instruction in insti- 
tutions where nothing is supposed to be taught but that, 
on the truth and usefulness of which there rests not the 
shadow of a doubt. Were the professors of our esta- 
blished schools of learning to turn their attention to this 
science, divested of all their former prejudices, be they 
ever so numerous and occasioned by whatsoever they 
may, they would not neglect to see what individual mem- 
bers have seen, much truth, much interest, and much 
anticipated good by the study of it. The objections 
having weight with the public, unlearned as well as 
learned, are many ; some of them bear a specious, others 
a plausible, others a serious aspect ; and until their vari- 
ous merits and demerits are carefully weighed by indi- 
vidual members of the sceptical world, there is but little 
hope of the barrier between them and phrenology being 
broken down. Let every objector weigh the written 
testimony against himself, or even against the whole body 
of written evidence on his side, when, if he be candid 
and wise, he wiJl see a great preponderance in favour of 
the phrenological cause. The largest proportion of men, 
are, I admit, averse to it. If the voice of the people 
were taken as a test, our hope of success would be small ; 
but take the sense of that part of the community who 
have become thoroughly conversant with the matter 
(which is the only proper criterion) and then the victory 
of the phrenologists would be complete. The fact of 
numbers being against us is no proof of the weakness and 
fallacy of our cause. The largest proportion of the nation 



40 COLLOQUY II. 

is inclined to radicalism, but that is no proof of toryism 
or conservatism being the less able to preserve inviolate 
the interests of the people : dive into the deepest depths 
of the human heart, and sound its religious persuasions, 
and more unbelief will be discovered than even Satan 
himself could suggest, and yet the truth of Christianity 
loses nothing, the gem we failed to find none of its value 
and brilliancy. 

STEWART. 

I am willing to grant that the little progress your 
science has made must not be received as a positive proof 
of its fallacy. If all truths met with toleration, you 
would be a blessed people. Phrenology may be one of 
the truths which have been neglected. Christianity has 
ever been rejected by some individuals ; and several of 
the sublimest doctrines and most brilliant discoveries in 
morals and philosophy have been pointedly condemned as 
fallacious and injurious, for which the experience of ages 
alone could obtain an universal recognition. The greatest 
truths have met with opposition — their advocates impri- 
sonment, bloodshed, and death. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 
In earlier periods, when schism, intolerance, bigotry, 
and superstition were at their height, phrenology; in its 
first rude and unpolished state, would have met with but 
few disciples. Whatever interfered with the fixed notions 
and creeds of the ancients, was looked upon as a daring 
innovation, and often punished as a crime. The fate of 
Galileo, who protested against the futile systems of astro- 
nomy then in vogue, substituting for them one that 
involved a doubt of their correctness, i. e. the diurnal 
and annual revolution of the globe, is impressed upon the 
memory of every reading and reflecting mind. The de- 



COLLOQUY II. 4J 

clension of that superstitious adherence to antiquated 
doctrines, crude and unreasonable as they might have 
been, is favourable to the development of rational sys- 
tems and the preponderance of truth. Gall had much to 
encounter in his struggles to penetrate into the region of 
phrenology, a region never before explored with success 
or zeal. Divested of all prejudice, and possessing an 
unusual degree of observation, he was bent upon culling 
the sweets from every flower in this comparatively un- 
trodden land. In its general features there was some- 
thing that attracted him. By degrees his reason and 
sagacity were fed, his enthusiasm and ardour enlivened 
and increased. The deeper he penetrated the more trea- 
sures and beauties he discovered. Of what he explored 
he gave a history which embraces many interesting as well 
as undigested topics. He had not time to mature his 
ideas, none to separate the clay from the ore, the beauties 
from the deformities. The mower was wanted to cut 
down the thistles and briars, the pruner to prune many 
excrescences which the soil produced. Like Columbus, 
who went in search of the new Continent, he had but 
few supporters, but little patronage to assist him 
through the toilsomeness of his researches. Prompted 
by a generous enthusiasm, and upheld by strength of 
mind, he broke down barriers which divided him from 
other men talis ts of his age and country. 

STEWART. 
It has been said that Gall relinquished the doctrine 
in his latter days, because he could reduce it to no fixed 
principles. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 
That he made no very useful application of his disco- 
veries none pretend to doubt ; but that he ever rejected 



42 COLLOQUY II. 

the principles, which, by a long course of observation and 
reasoning, he had formed, is not likely. It is too much 
to say he saw himself the victim of indiscretion, in that 
he found himself to be his own dupe. To have been 
carried back by the stream against which he had been so 
long struggling, and the force of which he had mainly 
conquered by his perseverance, is not what one can sus- 
pect a mind like Gall's to have been subject to. If he 
had any object in view which he ultimately abandoned, 
it was one which the immature state of his own system 
would not warrant. No doctrine was ever yet projected, 
of which its projector did not anticipate events that would 
form an important era in his history, but which were not 
likely to be realized, at least by him. Systems of use- 
fulness have always been tardily framed, new truths (for 
nothing but truth can be made useful) must undergo 
great analysis, great elaboration, and suffer somewhat by 
contortions before they can be moulded so as to suit the 
habits and prejudices of the public, and made the life- 
springs of action, the mediums of usefulness. As in the 
laboratory of the chemist pure elements and atoms are 
separated from such as are noxious, so in the invention 
of a science, which is only truth separated from error, 
good from evil, are precautionary and analysing means 
equally required. I look upon Gall as a man of deep 
penetration, as a scientific hero of his time, as the reviver 
of a light which had been dimly revealed in days prior to 
his own, and which he rendered more luminous by draw- 
ing whatever was possible from men and manners. In 
conversing with Dr. Elliotson some time since, I was glad 
to find he took a similar view of the merits and originality 
of this man. It is his opinion that we have heretofore 
neglected Gall for Spurzheim to our disadvantage. He 
sees a sententiousness in Gall's writings, a truth, a life, 



COLLOQUY II. 43 

which he does not discover in those of the pupil, and has 
determined upon shewing how much they are to be pre- 
ferred, how great is the claim which Gall has upon the 
phrenological world, and how much of what is, in reality, 
his, has been assigned to Spurzheim, who, instead of 
being the originator, is merely the propounder. This is 
a laudable object, as we are unwilling that men should 
wear wreaths to which they have no right— wreaths 
plucked from the brow of the proper and successful 
owner. 



(44) 



COLLOQUY III. 



The Professor presented himself to me this time 
unexpectedly. Sitting alone in deep meditation at mid- 
night, when my little family had retired to rest, the fire 
burning briskly, the lamp brightly, and a deathlike still- 
ness prevailed, I turned to reach a book on the constitu- 
tion of mind, when, lo ! I espied my friend. Anticipating 
my object, and, as it would seem, knowing, by some 
unaccountable mystery, the bent of my thoughts, he, 
without the least ceremony, immediately pursued the 
subject on which I was dwelling. 

STEWART. 

Think you not it is an omission on the part of phre- 
nologists, to disregard the commonly received notions of 
the nature of mind ? I would not wish you to give cre- 
dence to every thing in the poet's song, or the historian's 
page, as they often give unfaithful portraits of man. 
The one may present you with high- wrought images of 
mental excellence or mental deformity, sometimes to give 
vivacity, and life, and energy to their delineations, a 
boldness to their fiction, an interest to their narrative, a 
euphony to their numbers ; while the other, from some 
religious or political prejudice, some partial or illiberal 
views of human nature, may furnish a description of 



COLLOQUY III. 45 

manners, habits, and modes of thought far removed from 
the truth. You glean but little from the long-trodden 
field — is it because you find it comparatively barren ? You 
leave almost untouched whatever we have gathered into 
our garner. Though you have had free access, you deign 
not to enter, as though in the qualities of the food it con- 
tains, there was something pernicious and deleterious. 
You have, of course, your own reasons for thus abstain- 
ing, for thus forsaking that temple to which so many 
offerings have been made, and to which so many con- 
genial spirits have bowed for many ages past. Wherever the 
fountain of truth is, there I wish you to drink. I would 
fain lead you from that which is made turbid by error ; 
much more from one whose impurity would reflect dis- 
credit on the character of a nation so renowned for its 
philosophy, or rob it of any portion of that virtue it is 
known to possess. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

We desire to give as faithful a portrait of the mind as 
Hogarth did of the features ; yet we wish not to see it 
under so many contortions and disadvantages. We have 
not neglected the theories of others wilfully, or from 
bigotry. We have made use of every material supplied 
by our predecessors that was likely to advance our cause. 
In the society of the mentalists, among whom you stood 
foremost and ranked high, nothing but reason, that subtle 
and subverting faculty, was made the anchor of faith — the 
link by which such a society was bound together, and on 
which it depended for support. 

STEWART. 

There have been three reigns in England remarkable 
for the progress of literature. These were the time of 



46 COLLOQUY III. 

Elizabeth, of Anne, and the Regent. In the first we had 
Shakspeare and Spenser ; in the second Dry den and Pope ; 
in the third Byron, Scott, and the whole constellation of 
political geniuses. These are by some persons deemed 
Augustan ages. I scarcely know in which metaphysics 
flourished most. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

There have been periods in the history of the world 
when one age more than another produced men of genius. 
Many persons have attempted to account for this circum- 
stance, but few have succeeded in settling the question 
satisfactorily. The Abbe du Bos was inclined to believe 
that it depended upon physical more than moral causes. 
The matter appears to me easily solved by supposing 
it completely accidental, be it physical, or be it moral. A 
master spirit arises who stimulates others to exertion, and 
thus occasions this peculiar time, as the Abbe says, " in 
which a certain spirit of perfection sheds itself on the 
inhabitants of a particular country." How apt is the mind 
to lie inert and indolent if there be no great incitements 
to call forth its powers. We see the lethargy that fell on 
the ancient Greeks when the great stimulus to their 
exertions was taken from them. Man is an emulative 
being ; he is also envious ; either of these capacities will 
call forth his energies ; but he must first have something 
to emulate, something to envy. The subject may be the 
reputation of a great and powerful genius then stirring 
the whole literary or scientific world ; man admires and 
wishes to imitate, and endeavours to excel that which he 
admires. This spirit of rivalry draws forth a latent genius, 
which is not necessarily active. The great men of the age 
die and leave a blank, and perhaps no other enterprising 
and powerful spirit springs up to quicken and animate the 



COLLOQUY III. 47 

next generation; and thus does this " same spirit seem to 
withdraw itself after having rendered two or three gene- 
rations more perfect than the preceding or following ones." 
It is doubtful whether, as the Abbe insinuates, ' c there are 
times in which men of the same country are born with 
greater capacity and wit than at other times." There 
may be the same amount of mental power, though it 
be not elicited : this is most probable. Experience has 
developed to us a fact which no assertion can divest of its 
truth. It is that the most trifling circumstance may 
influence and rouse the mind of man. Nor is it less 
obvious that seasons occur in which that influence is more 
likely to be imparted. 

STEWART. 

Villeius Paterculus takes a similar view of this matter : 
he says, " Emulation cherishes genius : one while envy, 
another while admiration, stimulates endeavours after 
excellence ; and whatever is aimed at with the most earnest 
effort, is carried to the highest perfection. It is difficult 
to continue long at the point of perfection ; and then 
what cannot advance, naturally falls off: and as at first we 
are animated to overtake those whom we think before us, 
so when we have despaired either of getting beyond them, 
or being equal with them, our inclination languishes with 
our hope ; it ceases to pursue what it cannot reach ; and 
quitting matter which others have already occupied, it 
looks out for something new : neglecting that in which 
we cannot be eminent, we search for some other object, 
on which to employ our endeavours after excellence. 
The consequence is, that this frequent and fickle tran- 
sition from one art to another is the greatest obstacle to 
perfection." Some objections may be urged against these 
remarks: in the main, however they are correct, one great 



48 COLLOQUY III. 

proof of one genius stimulating another is the fact that 
any particular classes of men have existed as contem- 
poraries, or about the same periods. Look at our English 
historians. There are Jortin, Lyttleton, Goldsmith, Hume, 
Gibbon, and Robertson, and Mitford : passing to our poets 
we find in the last century a galaxy perhaps never equalled 
in number in any one century. The same with our critics 
and our artists, our men of learning, our orators, our 
statesmen, our philosophers. Under Augustus there were 
bright stars in the horizon of literature, and some of a 
magnitude which no succeeding age has perhaps surpassed. 
In France too there were poets almost contemporary 
with one another — Corneille, Racine, and Moliere — names 
which will survive most others in French literature. The 
last century was a glorious British era ; the most glorious 
of any, perhaps, that has been known in these dominions. 
There was a renovation of that spirit, which had been 
struggling for pre-eminence in many past ages. The 
seventeenth was a remarkable century, but the eighteenth 
outstript it. The master-spirits of these ages were stimu- 
lants to each other and their minor contemporaries, and 
never was there, perhaps, so mighty an inundation of 
doctrines of the mind as in this and the last century. 
Before then we had a Bacon and a Locke as champions in 
the cause of truth, as leading characters in the acquisition 
of whatever concerns the constitution of the mind ; but 
latterly we have had improvements, and the institution 
of principles, in which by-gone days appear to have 
essentially failed. I allude not to any supposed advan- 
tages attaching themselves to phrenology, but to doctrines 
which depend on grounds of a different nature. Opposed 
to Bacon, Locke, Malibranche, Kaimes, Descartes, Hart- 
ley, Priestley, Reid, Brown, Beattie, and a host of others 
in their line of mentalism, there stood Gall and Spurz- 



COLLOQUY III. 49 

heim, with their few and comparatively unknown disci- 
ples. It is true the former were the promulgators of 
theories long established ; while the latter, apparent inno- 
vators of fixed doctrines, constituted a new sect, whose 
object has been to break down bulwarks erected for many- 
centuries, and constructed by hands the boast of Eng- 
land. Though, however, they may be consecrated by 
age — though they may be regarded with such veneration 
and respect as, at first sight, may render all interpolations 
indiscreet, I never considered them so durable and im- 
perishable as to withstand the ravages of time, or so 
sanctified as to deem all encroachments upon them as 
sacrilege. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

To be inimical to the doctrines propounded by 
these men without substantial reasons, would be an evi- 
dence of weakness rather than of wisdom. We are 
bound to respect their opinions, and tolerate the principles 
they promulgated, until weighty evidence can be adduced 
against them. As far as demonstration is concerned, 
observation will always be more than a counterpoise to 
simple reason, be it conducted on ever so logical a prin- 
ciple. With you and other mentalists, metaphysical 
argument or logical deduction has ever constituted your 
main support. With us, little else than observation is 
admitted as the groundwork of our faith. Of the advan- 
tage of observation over argument based only on human 
reason, there can be no doubt : — now, if by observation we 
can give an explicit account of mind, such as is consistent 
with nature, such as is in accordance with Scripture, and 
such as experience warrants, how much stronger is our 
testimony than yours, in proof of mind being of the 
character we describe. 



50 COLLOQUY III. 



STEWART. 

If observation will establish your claim to public 
notice, and give you a precedence for which it would be 
folly in us to contend, then all former disquisitions must 
be vain. Doctrines founded on observation, on deduc- 
tions drawn from the visible part of creation, are certainly 
to be preferred to such as are constituted of abstract rea- 
soning alone. But the question at issue is, whether the 
principles of your doctrine have their foundation in 
nature, and whether the inferences at which you have 
arrived are legitimate. There is one point which I have 
always regarded as particularly favourable to the phre- 
nological cause ; and this is the disinterestedness of those 
who have ventured to uphold it. Excepting phreno- 
logical quacks, a person risks the loss of his character as 
a man of sense, and gains nothing by becoming one of its 
disciples. New systems are inviting; the mind, ever 
panting after novelty, is attracted by a system which 
exercises the fancy, if not the curiosity. When, how- 
ever, the uncertain state in which mentalists have left 
their own theories, and the restless desire there is in man 
for knowledge, particularly in a matter of such import- 
ance as the economy of a principle such as mind, is taken 
into consideration, it would be folly to wonder at specu- 
lation, or at any attempt being made to arrive at the 
truth. Next to the principles of religion, those of mind 
claim priority for our attention., Considered properly, 
they may be made highly conducive to our best interests. 
They involve Omnipotent design, extending to the cre- 
ation of the whole earth. The multiplicity of their 
relations is beyond all conception. Regarding them as 
principles intimately connected with all nature — with 
sin — with virtue — with death — with judgment — with 



r 



COLLOQUY III. 51 

futurity— with God, we must regard them in the light I 
have pronounced, as one of the greatest subjects for our 
contemplation. Recognizing them as principles by which 
all terrestrial things might be brought under some degree 
of subjection — contemplating them in all their variety — 
their union with the body, their impelling tendency to 
co-operate with all existing things, their diversified 
powers of action in thought, feeling, imagination, and 
invention — a prospect is presented to which no limits are 
fixed ; yet the nature of these principles, or the secret 
means by which all these things are achieved, are too 
mysterious to be satisfactorily explained, or clearly com- 
prehended. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

True — and while viewing it thus, we are compelled, 
by an almost irresistible impulse, to enquire into the 
marvellous design the Creator had in view in creating the 
principle of mind. This design is very manifest. It was 
the happiness of a being capable of experiencing joy; 
and what was the joy it was destined to experience ? — 
communion with God and Nature. Wisdom and good- 
ness joined hand in hand to create mind with advantages 
like these annexed to it, and unbounded benevolence 
alone sustains it. Mind stands pre-eminently forward in 
the economy of nature. Excepting the wonderful schemes 
of creation and redemption, we see nowhere so full and 
marvellous a display of might — nowhere such a mani- 
festation of goodness. Revelation unfolds to us, in part, 
the scheme involved in its creation ; reason supplies the 
rest. The object of the Creator, it is true, has been 
greatly frustrated. The intelligence he gave, has been 
perverted — the virtue he bestowed, corrupted. According 
to the original design, however, man was created happy, 
e 2 



52 COLLOQUY III. 

because he was perfectly holy, and exceedingly great, be- 
cause he was made in the image of his Creator. Pure 
and fervent in feeling, exalted and powerful in intellect, 
he was fit to hold intercourse with Omnipotence, whose 
desire it was to communicate the influence of his own 
attributes. He next designed that this creature, whom 
he pronounced the lord of creation, should live for ever, 
and feel for ever, the power of his own perfections, the 
extent of his mercy and benevolence, the unbounded 
value of his protection and love. 

STEWART. 

To shew, moreover, the surpassing value of the mind — 
to instance the love of God to man in causing his mercy 
to triumph over his anger, he has blotted out the original 
transgression of that mind, created according to such a 
benevolent and enlarged scheme, and this, even though 
he had passed by angels, making no provision for their 
recovery. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Seeing the great bearing of our existence on the fulfil- 
ment of a design alike infinite and wise, it is roost evident 
that, while contemplating the vastness of human exist- 
ence, we should not suffer ourselves to separate the 
simple idea of existence, under its various modifications, 
from the design which attends it in all its diversities — 
i. e. we should never separate the design of creation from 
the work itself. Without design, without some greater 
end to be accomplished than has yet been achieved, 
creation would fall short of the grandeur, beauty, and 
utility which we should otherwise attach to it. Since, 
therefore, the world, animate and inanimate, was created 



COLLOQUY III. 53 

for man — since Nature, in her stupendous whole, which 
is but an effect, and only another name for an effect — 
since every mountain, and valley, and beast, and herb, 
the orb of day, and perhaps the whole planetary system, 
were produced to serve an object immediately referable to 
man — and since all will one day pass away, and be no 
more seen in consequence of man — since, indeed, God's 
design in creating the world was to make it the abode of 
immortal spirits, and for the gratification of beings 
capable of recognizing his goodness, and contemplating 
the extent of his power, and adoring his perfections, as 
neither the earth nor the brute was ever capable of 
acknowledging or partaking of the perfections of their 
Creator — it is evident he had a design, an end to fulfil, 
highly interesting, and alone interesting to us, because 
our being, our very destinies, and ours alone, are imme- 
diately concerned in the event. It is evident, I say, that 
this design affects us most materially, simply because our 
Creator has so ordered it, that it might be fulfilled to our 
highest satisfaction, our eternal felicity. He first created 
the world for us, supplying it with animals, fruits, and 
herbs adapted to administer to our happiness and comfort ; 
and after all, rather than his purpose should be frus- 
trated, he gave up his only Son as a ransom for our sins, 
to wash away the stain which the insubordination and 
guilt of man had occasioned. 

STEWART. 

There can be no doubt that the noblest work of the 
Deity was the creation of the human mind ; and it is 
equally indisputable that the noblest effort of that mind 
is the contemplation of its Divine original. In every 
thought, and invention, and sentiment, we trace, so far 



54 COLLOQUY III. 

as the power goes, not so its direction, the work of infi- 
nite wisdom. Every reflection is a shadow of might; and 
that man should be able to communicate his thoughts to 
man — that man, through prayer and thanksgiving, should 
be able to hold communion with the great eternal Jehovah, 
are not the least wonderful parts of the great scheme of 
creation ; but that man should ever have been able to 
plan, to devise, to set his imagination and mind at work 
contrary to the desire and object of his Creator, and 
assume a dominion which it was never intended he should 
possess, and for which and through which he exchanged 
bitterness for joy, sin for holiness, are the most remark- 
able phenomena respecting the history of mankind, per- 
fectly irreconcilable and incomprehensible to our limited 
powers of thought. To dismiss this subject, at least for 
the present, it is time to recur to the nature of a prin- 
ciple destined for such high privileges, and on account of 
which so much Divine mercy has been displayed. To 
define its nature is out of the power of beings like our- 
selves, who consist alone of it, much less of you, whose 
thoughts are not allowed to take full wing, being bur- 
dened by the flesh ; farther than conceive of it by com- 
parison you cannot. Not understanding how any thing 
can exist without properties, powers, and laws different 
in kind and operation, and some secret phenomena which, 
in the whole, constitute what the metaphysicians term a 
substance, you believe that of such must be the nature of 
mind : to this I can see no plausible objection. Mind is 
an independent principle, because it may exist apart from 
the body. It manifests, when separated, various qualities 
in extreme vigour, and, at the same time, purity ; it is 
therefore a congeries of attributes, which, of themselves, 
form a wonderful principle of creation. 



COLLOQUY III. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



55 



With the manifestations we become better acquainted : 
by them alone we judge of its primary qualities. They 
produce effects evident to our senses, and within the 
sphere of our comprehension. Whatever is instinctive, 
intellectual, moral, and religious is mental. All is of 
mind. To this declaration I am aware some objection 
may be raised ; for what, it might be asked, is the soul ? 
The brute possesses mind, and most of those faculties 
which we ascribe to man ; and yet the mind, with them, 
is not soul. If, argue some persons — if the faculties 
which are supposed to be in the exclusive possession of 
man, be soul, it is unmetaphysical to identify them with 
mind, which must be different from soul, by reason of 
animals lower than man enjoying its privileges. Some 
persons are of opinion that such faculties as are now 
made exclusively to belong to man, are not, of them- 
selves, that is, in their present known sphere of action, 
sufficient to constitute any thing so superlatively excel- 
lent and powerful as the soul. To enter into any dis- 
cussions concerning these points is not my intention, it 
being quite certain that their adjustment is neither neces- 
sary to the enquiry in view, nor at all likely to be 
effected with the confined notions we, at present, enter- 
tain of the human economy. The schoolmen of ancient 
Greece and Rome took an interest in this question, but 
did not succeed in bringing their speculations to a favour- 
able issue. Be the soul what it may, we cannot be well 
deceived about the qualities of mind viewed in a phreno- 
logical point of view. I have already decided that this 
view claims precedence over that of the metaphysical 
school, which has now nearly passed away, to give place 



56 COLLOQUY III. 

to a newer and better system. Whatever merit may be 
attached to the philosophers of this school, on account of 
the deep thought and ingenuity accompanying their dis- 
quisitions, it is evident they can never be looked upon, 
now that the brain is known to be absolutely necessary to 
the manifestations of the mind, with that degree of ap- 
probation and merit which was formerly bestowed upon 
them in consequence of their not having considered the 
brain sufficiently in relation to the science. To suppose 
the mind could neither act nor exist independently of the 
brain — to suppose it could not be considered abstractedly 
from the brain in every particular, was, in their opinion, 
erroneous ; and how much more so then must that phi- 
losophy or doctrine have been, which makes the brain so 
far instrumental, as to be appropriated, in different parts, 
to different mental faculties ? A doctrine of this latter 
kind is fatal to that promulgated by these metaphysicians : 
it is, nevertheless, the true doctrine, and therefore must 
supersede every other. 

The different parts or organs of the brain to which 
different faculties belong, are thirty-five in number, con- 
sisting of those mentioned in the classification. It is 
believed by the phrenologist, that each of these organs is 
the instrument of an innate faculty of the mind, and the 
medium by which that faculty is manifested to the world. 
The names of these organs are not very applicable in 
many instances, but, with few exceptions, the most 
explanatory the English language affords. The organs, 
agreeably to their several uses, are called either intellectual, 
moral, or animal : the former lie in the fore part of the 
head, the second in the superior part, and the latter in 
the posterior and inferior part, as may be seen in the maps 
affixed to the classification. 

To comprehend the nature or essence of mind, the 



COLLOQUY III. 57 

first cause of thought and every species of mental action, 
is, as you justly observe, impossible. We, nevertheless, 
understand something of its manifestations, and thereby 
judge of its constitution. From the earliest ages all civi- 
lized nations have recognized in man two orders of created 
beings, spirit and matter ; but the latter, so far as regards 
its nature, is no better understood than the constitution 
or nature of the former. It is also well known that these 
respective orders of beings cannot exist without immutable 
and innate laws, powers, and properties. What are called 
the faculties of the mind are innate and immutable pro- 
perties — properties which cannot be separated from each 
other, nor undergo any radical change. To enter into any 
lengthened details concerning this subject is not necessary 
to the explanation of phrenology. It appears, however, 
that philosophers have not been sufficiently attentive to 
the essential or innate faculties, when they have spoken 
of the manifestations. They have confounded actions, 
which are merely the results of those faculties, with the 
faculties themselves ; in other words, they have mistaken 
the primary, essential, or innate properties or faculties, 
for those qualities, modes of action, or functions which 
are not necessary either to the essence or existence of the 
principle or substance — mind. The properties which 
establish the growth, and preserve the being of animals 
and plants, are unchangeable, determined, and special 
properties of the principle of life; and the properties 
from which the mental manifestations emanate, are 
equally so. 

STEWART. 

No deviation can take place in the nature of either 
matter or mind. The circumstance of there being differ- 
ent kinds of either, does not alter the nature of either. 



58 COLLOQUY III. 

Matter cannot assume a spiritual capacity, nor can mind 
assume a material capacity, under any consideration. 
The brain, modelled, refined, and beautiful as it is in the 
way of organization, is, by virtue of its nature, as inca- 
pable of producing any thing mental as iron, wood, or 
stone. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is, however, better fitted to act in concert with 
spirit ; and, by a law of nature, is intended to be instru- 
mental to the manifestation of spirit. The great question 
at issue is, whether the several innate faculties of the 
mind are manifested to the world by one organ, the brain, 
as a simple undivided instrument, or whether each faculty 
has a separate organ in that brain for the accomplishment 
of its special and destined purposes. Although it has 
been supposed that the mind does not reside in the brain, 
and that, even if it do reside there, the brain is not 
required instrumentally, it is so far demonstrated by the 
most experienced writers, by reason and analogy, that the 
brain is not only the seat but the organ of the mind, that 
I need adduce no arguments here in support of the fact. 
Admitting, without argument for the present, that each 
faculty has a particular organ for its especial service, the 
manifestations of which are not performed by any other 
organ, for this is the essence of phrenology — and admit- 
ting the several faculties to be innate and inseparable,* we 
may enquire what is meant by ideas, sensations, and other 
actions of the mind, respecting which the early, as well as 
the more modern philosophers, have written so much. 
Some of these men taught the doctrine of innate ideas — 

* It is impossible for any innate faculty of an essence, 
principle, or substance in nature to be separated, and the rest 
to remain in existence. 



, COLLOQUY III. 59 

a very common doctrine at one period ; and, at the same 
time, considered those qualities to be innate which, in 
fact, are not so, but which are rather the products, results, 
or manifestations of the faculties, mediately or immedi- 
ately produced. 

STEWART. 

It was, moreover, thought by a few, that these ideas 
are always brought into a state of activity by the external 
senses. Aristotle believed them to be produced entirely 
by the senses. I need hardly say that such an hypothesis 
as this is now looked on as absurd. It involves great con- 
tradiction: it implies that mind, instead of being an 
essential principle, and derived from no created thing, is 
wholly dependent on the perfection of the senses, and 
the nature of the impressions made upon them by the 
external world; — that it is, in short, a mixture of effects 
obtained from a reciprocal influence exercised between our 
senses and external material objects. Bishop Berkeley, 
on the other hand, did not believe in the existence of 
any world besides a world of ideas; and therefore 
denied the possibility of proving the entity of any thing 
external to himself. The Bishop was not singular in his 
belief; and an hypothesis of this kind, absurd as it is, 
has been adopted by later writers, and is received even at 
the present day. 

Notwithstanding the existing diversity of opinions, in 
respect to the constitution of the human mind, there can 
be no doubt we obtain knowledge through two sources— 
the senses, and those innate and internal faculties which 
are independent of the senses* The mind is naturally 
conscious, and naturally capable of thinking, without the 
mutual aid of the senses ; and this capacity it derives from 
such faculties as are, by nature, capable of reflecting. 



60 COLLOQUY III. 

The ideas obtained from external impressions made upon 
the senses are as incidental as the impressions themselves, 
and therefore cannot be innate ; for innate beings, and 
it signifies not of what kind they are, cannot be produced, 
although they may be brought into operation, by an object 
or a circumstance that is of an accidental character. The 
senses, useful and necessary as they are to give us know- 
ledge of the external world in its beautiful and unbounded 
variety, are nevertheless incapacitated to experience a 
consciousness and belief of existence. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

They are simply inlets to the conscious faculties, which 
are internal, and without which there would be no con- 
sciousness, no impressions, no ideas, no manifestation 
of any description, even though the senses existed.* 
The faculties, says Spurzheim, which perceive the im- 
pressions, and conceive the ideas, are not innate. Thus the 
ideas of a plant, stone, or animal are innate ; but these 
objects make impressions on our senses, which again pro- 
duce sensations or ideas in our minds, and both these 
senses and the faculties of our mind are innate. In the 
same manner the sensations and ideas of external and 
accidental events are nowise innate; and in general no 
determined action of any faculty, but the faculty itself, is 
innate. The propensity of love, not the subject of love ; 
the faculty of speaking, not the peculiar language; the 
faculty of comparing and judging, not the determinate 
judgment ; the faculty of poetry, not the peculiar poem, 

* In alluding to the senses here, I refer to those of the eye, 
ear, nose, tongue, and organs of touch, and not to the particular 
acts of consciousness in the mind caused by their instrumen- 
tality. 



COLLOQUY III. 61 

are innate. Thus there is a great difference between 
innate faculties and innate ideas and sensations. The 
doctrine of innate faculties, of which the early philoso- 
phers knew comparatively nothing, and upon which Gall 
and Spurzheim threw much light, is becoming more gene- 
rally understood and received. A proper distinction, 
however, is not made, even in these days, between the 
faculties and their manifestations. So necessary is this 
distinction, that no correct system of mental philosophy 
can be established without it; and thus it is that the 
theories of these early writers are far from being satisfac- 
tory. In any subject so abstruse as that of this philosophy, 
great difficulty must be experienced in comprehending a 
difference between the faculty and its function. Unless 
this be done — unless we duly understand which is cause 
and which is effect, it is in vain to seek for just conclu- 
sions. Spurzheim proved the existence of innate or 
primary faculties in mankind by the constancy of the 
human character; by the uniformity of the nature of 
man at all times and in all countries ; by the tendency 
of natural genius ; by the peculiarity of every species ; by 
the determinate character of each of the sexes; by the 
peculiarities of every individual ; by the relation between 
the organization and the manifestation of the respective 
faculties ; and, finally, by the circumstance that man is 
a created being. 

STEWART. 

Instinctive faculties, and mental faculties which are 
commonly termed physical, are synonymous. Instinct 
implies both inclination and action, and is the result of 
these innate properties. The power that produces volun- 
tary motion — the means whereby instinctive inclination is 
gratified, is also inbred ; and the desire of gratification is 



62 COLLOQUY III. 

so natural, that it must be considered an essential quality 
also. This power and this desire are perceived through 
all animal nature : without them animals would not exist. 
In this power resides that quality which is termed will, 
another essential quality of the mind. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The faculties which are common to man, to the inferior 
animals, or to both, are equally innate, immutable, and 
inseparable ; and it is not because there is superiority of 
feeling and of understanding in man, that the faculties 
of neither can be determined and stable. This superiority 
arises from the superiority of the mental constitution of 
man ; from the faculties being, for wise and special pur- 
poses, ennobled in man ; from the higher and more ex- 
clusive properties in human nature having power, by 
their laws of association, which are more complex and 
dignified, to influence and direct those common to man 
and brutes. 

To conclude — Without innate faculties, laws, and 
powers, nothing could be stable — nothing, in fact, could 
exist. Such things as chance properties — properties re- 
sulting from some accidental circumstance — cannot help 
to constitute any part of nature ; neither are innate pro- 
perties, subject, as far as their entity is concerned, to the 
will and caprice of man. Without them, indeed, there 
would be no will. It is by innateness of faculties, mental 
and vital, that each kind of animal preserves its nature 
so unchangeable as it is, notwithstanding the influence 
and diversity of surrounding events, and the constant 
succession of supplies and wastes carried on in the sys- 
tem. Every faculty, therefore, the organ of which is 
found on the phrenological map or bust, is an innate pro- 
perty of the mind, exists in every human being, and was 



COLLOQUY III. 63 

created and assigned to mankind for wise purposes, how 
much soever the tendency of some of them may seem to 
contradict the assertion. It is reasonable to conceive, 
whatever revolution the constitution of man from his 
original state might have experienced, that not one new 
faculty, which is of an innate kind, has been added to 
the mind of man since the fall. We must not suppose 
that, because evil has been introduced, it is necessarily an 
essential, an innate faculty of the mind. The evil that 
springs from the mind, and it certainly cannot spring 
from any thing except the mind, results from an abuse 
in the exercise of the mental faculties. It may indeed be 
shewn, by entering more particularly into this subject, 
that every organ serves a purpose in the human economy, 
which is both salutary and necessary to man during his 
earthly pilgrimage, if at least it be properly directed; 
which, by the will, the reason, the consciousness of good 
and evil existing within us, may be the case to a great 
extent. They must have been created for a good purpose 
— a purpose calculated to answer an end that shall con- 
tribute not merely to the happiness of man here, but to 
his glory hereafter. 



(64) 



COLLOQUY IV. 



STEWART. 



It is objected, that the classification of phrenologists 
contains too many organs, or that there are more faculties 
enumerated on the map than can be necessary, or even 
satisfactorily proved to exist. Others, in the meantime, 
object to there being so few organs, and say that there 
are not enough to account for the various manifestations 
which take place. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

In respect to there being too many organs, the phre- 
nologist is prepared with a great number of facts to shew, 
that all the organs are so well and fully established, as to 
place the existence of either one of them beyond doubt. 
As to there not being a sufficient number of organs, we 
have to consider the fact of Nature having power, by 
reason of her laws of association, to produce actions as 
the effects of a connection between different faculties and 
different objects. It would, moreover, be contracting 
our ideas of nature to imagine that any one innate faculty 
had no power to produce more than one action. Admit- 
ting the connection, and that different kinds or degrees 
of action or function may result from either faculty, it is 



COLLOQUY IV. 65 

not difficult to conceive that, in order to the existence of 
the mental manifestations, be they as numerous as they 
may, enough organs and innate faculties are already dis- 
covered to answer the purposes of nature. By way of 
illustrating this subject, we may quote the words of Dr. 
Spurzheim, who says, " seeing is always seeing, but what 
an infinite number of objects may be seen ? Hearing is 
always hearing, and so on as to every external sense. It 
is the same with the internal faculties: constructing is 
always constructing, but what an infinite number of 
objects may be constructed ? Are not twenty-four letters 
of the alphabet sufficient to compose all imaginable words? 
The muscles of the face are not very numerous, yet the 
face of almost all individuals presents different physiog- 
nomial traces. There are few primitive sounds ; there are 
few primitive colours ; there are only ten signs of num- 
bers ; but what an infinite number of combinations does 
not each of these present ? There are probably thirty- 
three special faculties*. Now if we consider all possible 
combinations of thirty-three faculties, and their mani- 
festations, it would be indeed surprising if we did not 
observe such a number of modified faculties, c or func- 
tions/ Hence we do not multiply the organs any more 
than is necessary, but we follow determinate principles in 
establishing each of them." If each faculty produced only 
one manifestation, and if no manifestation resulted from 
any kind of association, it is evident there would be no 
more functions than there are faculties, which, agreeably 
to the system of phrenology, do not exceed thirty-five. 
As many of the manifestations are purely accidental, the 
results of external agents operating on one or more of the 

*At the time Spurzheim wrote this, there were only thirty - 
three organs discovered or established. 



66 COLLOQUY IV. 

internal faculties — and as each faculty acts in different 
ways — it follows, as a matter of course, that there are not 
so many innate faculties as there are manifestations. So 
great is the capacity of some of the faculties, that they 
are supposed to learn, understand, think, desire, perceive, 
judge, will, imagine, attend, and remember. They are 
likewise subject to pain, pleasure, passion, aversion, 
enthusiasm, habit, sympathy, taste, and affection. It is, 
however, exceedingly difficult to say when these qualities 
arise from one faculty, and when they arise from two or 
more faculties acting together. They may, doubtless, 
emanate from either source. Now the faculties, by their 
constitution, may individually possess an inherent power 
to act in various ways and degrees, which, for the sake of 
brevity, we may call functions or manifestations, without 
exerting that power so as to produce a result : in other 
words, the power may not be called on by any circum- 
stance, internal or external, for the development of the 
specific authority which it possesses. When a faculty is 
active, the best criterion of which is the size of its organ, 
it more easily enters into either of the functions for which 
it is capacitated. An influence is exerted over it in this 
matter, however, by the kind of education it might have 
received, by the degree of controul it may be under from 
other organs, by the peculiar constitution of the organ 
itself, by the occupation of the individual, and by a 
variety of other circumstances, the nature of which it is 
needless to mention. Exercise invariably increases the 
activity of the faculties ; and the more active the facul- 
ties are, the more likely are they to manifest themselves 
in every capacity which they individually enjoy ; and as 
the kind of activity in which they may be more particu- 
larly engaged, determines the actions, the manners — in 
fact, the whole character of persons, it becomes necessary 



COLLOQUY IV. 67 

that those faculties should be most exercised which are 
capable of serving the most honourable purposes in life. 
Should a brain be badly formed, in regard to the relative 
proportion between the propensities and higher faculties, 
excessive application of the latter may cause such a super- 
abundant attention of the mind to rational pursuits, as to 
subdue the natural prevailing tendency of the former. 
According to the kind of cause which brings a faculty 
into operation, and it may be so brought from an endless 
variety of causes, so will be the result as to its being 
agreeably or disagreeably affected. A faculty agreeably 
excited, may be so from a mere pleasing emotion to the 
highest state of ecstacy : a faculty, disagreeably affected, 
may experience pain from the simple state of displeasure 
to anger and the most heart-rending grief. The faculty 
of physical love or amativeness is the most susceptible of 
these different affections — these different modes and de- 
grees of activity. The functions manifested by either of 
the external senses are simple acts of the mind; but 
those kinds of judgment, thought, and other functions 
which require the mutual influence or co-operation of 
more than one organ for their production, are complex 
actions. Faculties excite each other, and especially those 
which are allied in their nature ; and those so allied are, 
singular to say, situated together in the brain. This alli- 
ance and contiguity are most beautiful provisions : they 
enhance the great wisdom which we see displayed in the 
formation and adaptation of the brain. 

STEWART. 

The law of connexion subsisting between the faculties 

of mind and the tendency to associate, or act in concert, 

to promote some end for which individually they may be 

capacitated, are other provisions in which we see Divine 

f 2 



68 COLLOQUY IV. 

wisdom reflected. By such an association all the designs 
of creation are preserved and carried on. There is a law, 
too, by which one faculty cannot act, even in the most 
simple manner, without being in connexion with other 
faculties, it being impossible, as you premised, for the 
faculties to exist separately. There is also another law 
necessary to the explanation of this subject — namely, 
that which associates mind with matter, whether we con- 
fine that matter to the brain or to the whole body of the 
external material world. The instance of mind asso- 
ciating itself with external objects, and receiving from 
them, in their magnitude, their minuteness, their variety, 
and their beauty, the greatest portion of happiness, is 
another exemplification of that Providence which is 
brooding over the face of the earth, to enrich it with 
every store that may contribute to the comfort of its 
creatures. Were it not for a law of this latter kind, no 
cognizance of these objects, no ideas of things concerning 
the external world, could exist. The more correct the 
power of association is, the more correct will be the 
image or impression presented to the mind; and the 
more favourably developed the several organs are, the 
more correct and legitimate will be the ideas, the judg- 
ment, and the understanding, formed by their combined 
influence and operation. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

An active state of one organ, moreover, often pro- 
duces activity in another, when an association of ideas 
results. Without reciprocity — without mutual influence 
and excitation, energy and operation, man would be a 
curious being, weak and impotent at least. If, for in- 
stance, the organ of comparison were small, and that of 
causality very large, there would, perhaps, be a concep- 



COLLOQUY IV. 69 

tion of an object without any power of comparing it with 
other things properly. The poet, with the organ of 
ideality to give him vivid and sublime ideas, would be 
wanting in clearness and correctness without the organs 
of imitation and comparison. An idea may emanate from 
a single organ ; but a combination of ideas, which pro- 
duces complicated results, must spring from a combina- 
tion of organs. It is not the nature of every organ or 
faculty, however, to produce ideas. Those faculties which 
lie so contiguous to each other, and which are alike in 
nature, more readily associate in action. Occasionally 
there is an association between all the faculties of every 
order; at least, they may all combine in operation, some 
circumstance calling all of them into operation at the 
same period. According, however, to the faculties which 
do combine in operation, so will be the kind of ideas, 
conceptions, views, or opinions that result. Some of the 
internal faculties, says Spurzheim, make man act ; while 
others modify, assist, and direct our actions : some pro- 
cure for us a relative knowledge of external beings, and 
others are destined to bring all the faculties into harmony, 
in order to constitute unity. It will be inferred, from 
the preceding observations, that a function may be either 
simple or complex ; the simple function arising from the 
action of a single organ ; the complex function from many 
organs acting in concert. As there are many actions of 
the mind which do not arise simply from any particular 
organ, but from a combination — and as actions arise from 
an association between the faculties and the external 
world under an endless variety of circumstances — it fol- 
lows, even if there were nothing else to prove the fact, 
that ideas, which are only actions of the mind, are not 
innate, and also that actions have not separate organs in 



70 COLLOQUY IV. 

the brain. If, moreover, each mode of action, in which a 
faculty is capable of manifesting itself — such for instance 
as perception, memory, or desire — were an inherent quality 
of the mind, and belonged essentially to a particular organ, 
the same as the faculty of individuality, benevolence, and 
colour, it is quite certain we should have as many different 
kinds of perception, memory, and desire, as there are 
things to be perceived, remembered, and desired. Some 
of the early philosophers, not having had any idea of 
special faculties, classed under two heads, understanding 
and will, such faculties as they thought belonged to mind. 
To these faculties, which they erroneously deemed essen- 
tial, they assigned the power of acting under such various 
modifications as to include the several kinds of mani- 
festations which the special or innate faculties are alone 
capable of producing. The common qualities of under- 
standing, will, imagination, and judgment, as viewed by 
them, are wrong. The meaning of the terms, which are 
in general use, the world fully comprehends, and every 
useful purpose is served ; but to the mentalist it is neces- 
sary to know what is primary and what is secondary, 
which is cause and which is effect: and this end the 
science of phrenology is particularly well calculated to 
answer. The different opinions entertained by different 
persons of the same thing, are attributable to the minds 
of those persons being differently modified. There would 
not, however, be any modifications if the brains of those 
persons were constituted alike, and every circumstance 
operating on these minds was the same. The different 
modifications result from different combinations ; and the 
various modifications of the same faculty in different 
persons, is owing to difference of temperament, consti- 
tution of the organ, and other causes too numerous to 



COLLOQUY IV. 71 

mention. Allowing the mind to be influenced by the 
organization, and these several other causes, we cannot 
wonder at the great diversities of talent, or at the dif- 
ferent modifications of the mental faculties which are 
exhibited in the world. 



. 



( 72) 



COLLOQUY V. 



Since my last interview with the Professor, I had 
taken several rambles in the hope of meeting him by the 
way. These were in the most secluded spots ; but he 
deigned not to discover himself to me. Often, I feared, 
he had resolved no longer to hold any converse with one 
so little calculated to enter into the workings of his 
exalted understanding — one so far estranged from that 
heavenly temperament of mind which he was accustomed 
to enjoy. I trembled to think of this as a cause of his 
neglect ; for where, if so, was my hope of his renewing 
our acquaintance? I could not but think his object 
laudable, and that his intentions were to lead my thoughts 
and desires into an undefiled channel, where virtue and 
philosophy flow in uninterrupted purity. But why he 
had withheld his presence from me so long I could ill 
define. It was, perhaps, that my mind had not been in 
a proper mood to receive him. As he had a near con- 
nexion with Heaven, he was of course prompted by holy 
desires, and under the guidance of a holy Being. Thus 
reflecting, it was a natural question what had been the 
frame of my mind lately ? I taxed my thoughts, and 
reviewed the tone of my affections ; this self-examination 
shewed me they had been unusually lax, vain, and idle. 
Whence, then, was to be expected so high a boon as the 



COLLOQUY V. 73 

conversation, in persona, of an inhabitant of the invisible 
world — one of such superior mental acquisitions and 
endowments as my visitor had evidenced during his 
occasional short abodes on this earth ? 

This retrospect satisfied me that I had not deserved 
so great a privilege, and it required but little philosophy 
to persuade myself that this was the chief reason my 
superhuman, or supernatural friend had been so sparing 
of his visits. Worldly events often occur, as blessings in 
disguise, to give the mind fresh and more virtuous incli- 
nations : previously to this effect, they so assail man as 
to disturb his repose; watchful and anxious nights suc- 
ceed days of perturbation and excitement. He knows 
not what it is to be at ease. There is an evil tormentor 
constantly haunting him ; and whence does it come ? — 
from the world with its subtile and engrossing vanities. 
It is from external causes that his peace is broken, from 
pride, and envy, and covetousness. These raise him 
enemies who use every scheme and every art to convey to 
his neighbours and friends unfavourable and unfair im- 
pressions of his character. The fawning of the lamb, 
the obsequiousness of the hypocrite, are too often ex- 
changed for backbitings and revilings. How prominently 
do such ignoble assailants stand forward to cut short the 
comforts, and taint the best affections of man ! To be 
unmoved by them is wisdom; but where is stoicism 
enough in any philosopher to check their growth, and feel 
not, physically or morally, the bitter effects they infuse ? 
Whence proceeds the unhappiness of man more directly 
than from qualities of this kind, which exercise un- 
bounded sway over the whole economy of human nature, 
blighting its prosperity, chilling the glow of amity, and 
separating man from man ? Fearful and destructive is 
their authority. Draw them forth in all their nakedness 



74 COLLOQUY V. 

as they exist in each man, and in what hideous deformity 
would they not appear ! — monsters without a redeeming 
attribute. Walk whithersoever one may, one cannot 
escape their evil consequences — tread wheresoever one will, 
they are sure to be encountered. They are like evil 
spirits, against the access of which there is no bar. Reli- 
gion, modesty, and the whole host of virtuous inclinations 
are no safeguards : they will surmount every rampart, 
and accost every sentinel, every stranger, and every 
friend. Whoever ceases to feel the venom which their 
sting carries with them, is more than a philosopher — he 
is a Christian, who lives above the world, and is alone 
able to resist it. There are, however, seasons of rest to 
all men. In one of these seasons I took my usual walk. 
Now I found some relief, from the idea of prescience, of 
an Almighty Being ready to bend his eye towards every 
one whose heart is inclined towards him, and refuses to 
drink any longer the poisonous dregs of that bitter cup 
offered by the world. Seriously bent, I looked to the 
victory which the grave is destined to achieve, persuaded 
that it would one day bury in oblivion the violence of the 
human heart in its social and moral relations, and that 
the wound, which had been rankling with the poisonous 
influences of a vain, a deceitful, and a dishonest world, 
would be healed by a balm of everlasting efficacy. As 
was common with me, I wandered forth somewhat 
excited by thoughts of an imaginative cast, yet not 
divested of a due portion of reason, into the grounds of 
C. Hemes, Esq., than which, to my eye, there are none 
more beautiful and picturesque in Lynmouth or its 
suburbs. They are a combination of nature and art. 
To do them justice by any description is impossible ; they 
must be seen to be duly appreciated. The house is 
situated at the foot of a precipitous hill, or, more properly. 



COLLOQUY V. 75 

a cliff. These grounds occupy the whole of the valley of 
the West Lyn, which is a somewhat narrow defile, 
bounded on one side by the rocky and towering cliff 
before mentioned, and on the other by a luxuriantly 
wooded hill, upon the summit of which the village of 
Lynton is situated. Nothing can be more strikingly 
beautiful than the perfect contrast between these two 
hills, separated, as it were, by the little romantic valley 
through which the river forces its way to the sea from the 
higher ground in the distance. The brook runs nearly 
close to the house, from which it is separated by the prin- 
cipal walk, and a small verdant lawn, surrounded by fine 
evergreen and other shrubs. The chief point of attrac- 
tion, however, is the river. Piles of rock, of large dimen- 
sions, which, from time to time, have fallen from the cliff 
above, form its bed, interrupting the continuous flow of 
this mountain stream. Sometimes it rushes impetuously 
over the huge stones — sometimes it is seen descending like 
a solid mass of crystal, overhung by the dark umbrageous 
wood. Rustic bridges are here and there thrown across 
it, conducting the tourist to particular spots where the 
scene possesses new features, or greater beauty. In the 
higher parts of the grounds are a hermitage and a summer- 
house, from whence the most romantic views of the 
grounds and the sea are seen. Proceeding up the valley 
by a path cut from the side of the rocky hill, the river 
assumes a bolder aspect, frequently presenting from one 
spot three or four little cascades ; the masses of rock 
being here more abrupt and rugged, the course of the 
river is more torrentlike and impetuous. After heavy 
and long- continued rains there is a great swell ; then the 
foam, the spray, and continuous bellowing of the stream 
in its rapid descent, have a beautiful effect. At the extre- 
mity of the valley, about half a mile from the sea, the 



76 COLLOQUY V. 

little path is abruptly terminated by a pile of rock which 
rises to a great height on either side. From a very narrow 
inlet between these rocks the river rushes down headlong, 
forming the most considerable fall in the valley. The 
wild and picturesque seclusion of this spot, the ceaseless 
fall of the torrent, the perpendicular rocks covered with 
ivy, the light and graceful foliage of the mountain-ash 
which grows here in great luxuriance, the distant sea, the 
thickly- wooded Lynton hill, the overhanging rocks which 
the side of the opposite precipice presents, together form 
a most lovely and sublime scene, to which my pen cannot 
do justice. Returning by the same path, there is pre- 
sented a fine view of the channel, which seems almost 
covered with vessels voyaging to and from Bristol, toge- 
ther with the white cliffs and lofty hills of the Welch 
coast. Immediately before the tourist, and crouching, as 
it were, at the foot of the rocky cliff, which rises 700 feet 
above the level of the sea, appear the villa and grounds 
of Mr. Herries, with their smooth walks winding amidst 
the woods and shrubberies*. By means of a circuitous 
path, through a plantation of recent growth, a great por- 
tion of the cliff that yawns so fearfully over the deep- 
sunk dell, may be climbed. From this road the sea and 
part of Lynmouth and Lynton are seen to great advan- 
tage; while the villas which deck the opposite woody 
bank rather increase than diminish the beauty of the 
prospect. To me it is a scene of enchantment. Never 
tiring upon the eye, it loses nothing of the freshness of 
its loveliness from a constant acquaintance with it. 

" Ever charming, ever new, 

" When will the landscape tire the view ? " 

In storm or sunshine, in winter or summer, it pre- 
* See Note B. 



COLLOQUY V. 77 

sents a variety and splendour ever fresh, ever welcome. 
Those who have had no opportunity of seeing this cliff, 
cannot form an adequate conception of the rugged bold- 
ness of its front. I have heard it remarked that it is not 
unlike a part of St. Helena. The rocks of St. Kilda are 
higher and more stupendous, but have not, perhaps, so 
fine an effect on the whole. On the highest point of the 
rock, and immediately at the edge of a projecting part, 
stands a little summer-house, from whence the prospect 
is magnificent. The terrific grandeur of this abrupt and 
rugged promontory, facing, yet receding from the sea 
beyond the usual distance, is well adapted to inspire 
proper notions of that Being in whom whatsoever is grand 
and sublime, formidable and noble, essentially and truly 
repose. Scarcely less, however, does the opposite hill 
covered with foliage, in the midst of which jutting rocks 
here and there raise their grey heads in splendid contrast, 
attract attention, and draw forth admiration. In my 
ramble there was an unusual calm and silence ; turning 
to view a magnificent object, I pondered — 

When, lo ! a voice the slumb'ring silence broke ; 
And as the strangely sad, prophetic sound 

rose to my ear, I started. It was my unearthly visitor. 

STEWART. 

Why shrink you at a voice which comes to you in 
the tone of friendship, and auguring so much good ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Fear for a moment scared me ; it seemed like an " echo 
which ancient fiction has ascribed to the misfortunes of a 
talkative nymph, whom Juno, in a rage, changed into a 
voice for having aroused her jealousy, and by the length 



78 COLLOQUY V. 

of her tales (an artifice employed in all times) prevented 
her fury." 

STEWART. 
But do you not know that the very paper which 
afforded you this information, has likewise declared that it 
often happens that the echo does not return the sound to 
the place where it originated — that the nymph does not 
always make her responses to him who addresses her — and 
that there have been occasions in which her voice was 
mistaken by those who heard it ? — which may account for 
some marvellous stories, and those voices heard in the air, 
which Rome, built upon seven hills, has so often reckoned 
in the number of her prodigies. An echo is a reflected 
sound which vibrates on the ear ; but there is no body 
sonorous enough to impel my voice, which may be dis- 
tinguished without any undulatory motions of the air. 
You were thinking of death, and the unrivalled splendour 
of that world to which death might introduce you. It 
is indeed a sad and solemn contemplation. The mis- 
givings and waverings of the mind are omens of its 
weakness and incompleteness. We experience none of 
these falterings, no fallibilities, like you ; but enjoy all 
the luxuriousness of thought and imagination of a scarcely 
less than angelic intellect, without passion or impurity of 
any kind sullying them. 

You know not what a range 
Our spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ! 

To us death is no loss. It 

" Seems not a blank to me — a loss of all 

" Those fond sensations — those enchanting dreams , 

" Which cheat a toiling world from day to day, 

" And form the whole of happiness it knows. 

" Death is to me perfection, glory, triumph 1" 

Thomson. 



COLLOQUY V. 79 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



Yet I, with all my frigid notions of philosophy, con- 
template it with terror. The jaws of death form a spectacle 
at the sight of which all thinking and reflecting men, 
conscious of an eternity, fully persuaded of the truth of 
Scripture, must shrink. My fear is nearly equal to such 
of those philosophers to whom the idea was terrific. I 
sometimes desire the undaunted heroism and coolness of 
Hume, instead of the dread of Erasmus, Swift, and 
Johnson. 

STEWART. 

Depend upon it, Sir, this coolness of which you speak, 
on the part of Hume, was affected. No man so intel- 
lectual, no man possessing properties by nature which 
teach him to fear and hope instinctively, could die with- 
out some consciousness of an eternal existence of happiness 
or misery ; and with this consciousness, there would be 
an intermixture of dread, harassing and fearful to the 
dying infidel. To every person whose faith does not 
lead him to trust in all that is revealed, there must be, at 
least, an uncertainty, a contrariety of things and appear- 
ances which he cannot reconcile. Would this suffer a 
man, possessed of reason, or any individual with a healthy 
mind, to live and die collected ? It is to be suspected that 
a mind unaccustomed to waver, fixed, inflexibly, by 
infidel persuasions, is nothing less than insane. Nature 
herself teaches us to doubt, and nothing but the most 
perfect faith — or, contrariwise, insanity — can dissipate it. 
Satan himself has no power to extinguish every spark of 
it. In Voltaire it became, before he died, a flaming fire ; 
it burst out so furiously as to engender a hope, at one 
time, of divine mercy being extended to him — a hope 



80 COLLOQUY V. 

which he had endeavoured through life to exclude from 
his breast. Fear is an inherent passion of the human 
mind. It is more natural to fear the dispensations of 
Providence than to acknowledge their usefulness. The 
blasts of the desert, the billows of the ocean, the storm 
and the tempest, are objects of terror. Bloomfield, the 
Suffolk poet, speaking of the doleful peals of thunder, of 
the accompanying hail, and flashes of lightning in all the 
fury of a ruthless storm, says that even 

44 The frighten' d mastiff from his kennel flies, 

44 And cringes at the door with piteous cries. 

44 Where's now the trifler ? Where the child of pride ? 

41 These are the moments when the heart is tried. 

44 Nor lives the man with conscience e'er so clear, 

" But feels a solemn, reverential fear." 

If these things awaken fear, how much more shall the 
idea of the bare possibility of the Scripture being true, 
and God appearing to us in all his majesty, either as an 
angry Judge, or as a reconciled Father ! In the former 
character the infidel must meet him ! 

" A philosopher/* says Dr. Priestley, in one of his 
Prefaces, " ought to be something greater and better 
than another man. The contemplation of the works of 
God should give a sublimity to his virtue — should ex- 
pand his benevolence, extinguish every thing selfish, 
base, and mean in his nature— give a dignity to all his 
sentiments, and teach him to aspire to the moral perfec- 
tions of the great Author of all things." But this aspira- 
tion was not called forth in Hume. A blight had taken 
possession of his moral nature, and there was required 
something more than philosophy to wipe away the de- 
stroying and corroding insect :— a great man he was, but 
not a Christian ; nor is the simplicity of his style of 
composition, one of the least proofs of his greatness. 



COLLOQUY V. 81 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is marvellous certainly, if not perfectly irrational, 
for a man to so abandon himself to sin, or see things in 
such a perverted light, as to feel assured that revelation 
is a mere bugbear, that there is no resurrection, and no 
probability of a future state of existence. It is incredible, 
under the constitution of our nature. We have faculties 
which as instinctively lead us to doubt as to believe, be it 
for good or for evil ; and I never will believe that a man 
can be assured, persuaded in his own mind, of the falli- 
bility and utter inconsistency of every rule of faith 
founded on Divine government, and yet be in the posses- 
sion of a healthy mind. I can easily imagine a man to 
leave this world without regret ; for what is life, that one 
should desire its preservation — or death, that one should 
fear its pain ? And yet, for the infidel it were better 
that he never died — better that he was cast upon 
some isolated and desolate island for ever, where not so 
much as a sound, save the whistling wind, or the roaring 
sea, reached his ear, and nothing more varied than a 
barren waste met his eye. 

STEWART. 

This were a horrid existence; and it is to be wished 
that they whose names are not written in the book of 
life, should have nothing more miserable and wretched 
to endure. To be without the possibility of communi- 
cating with any creature — without a hope that any thing 
better than the fate you describe awaited one through 
everlasting ages — is a state which the mind cannot picture 
to itself without revolting at the sight. Even in our pre- 
sent condition, there is little that we wish to retain any 

G 



82 



COLLOQUY V. 



length of time. Though life is but as a span, a flying 
shadow, an ascending dew, it becomes irksome and 
toilsome. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Well would it be for the infidel if he could feelingly 
say with Shakspeare's Claudio — 

u Ah ! but to die, and go we know not where 1" 

STEWART. 

In death itself there is nothing to be dreaded, for, 
as Garth has justly remarked, 

" E'er we can feel the fatal stroke His o'er." 

Epicurus has rightly observed that death to us is 
nothing ; because when death is, we are not — and when 
we are, death is not. It is the event, and the uncertainty 
of that event. We are born to die ; death is the necessary 
consequence of life. The poet has said — 

" Then die, O mortal man ! for thou wert born." 

A great consolation is afforded to the dying in that 
they only are not its victims. " Nothing," says Seneca, 
" is so melancholy a circumstance in human life, or so 
reconciles us to the thought of our death, as the reflection 
and prospect of one friend after another dropping round 
us ! Who would stand alone, the sole remaining ruin, 
the last tottering column of all the fabrick of friendship; 
once so large, seemingly so strong, and yet so suddenly 
sunk and buried ? " 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

There is a remarkable feature in man respecting the 
anticipation of death which is worthy of notice. It is 



COLLOQUY V. 83 

the perfect coolness and serenity with which he speaks of 
it in reference to others, without considering, meantime, 
that he also must undergo the penalty. Man talks as 
though every person were to die but himself. Is this a 
wise provision of Providence ? 

STEWART. 

In such a light it must be viewed. Were man always 
portending the event as it affects himself, it would render 
him miserable, and disable him for the performance of 
his several duties. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I have an instinctive horror of an event about which 
there exists so much uncertainty; and this, surely, is not 
culpable, as fear may lead to reverence and love. It may 
incite us to be more scrupulously rigid in maintaining 
probity and virtue in our intercourse with man, and more 
honest and pious in our communion with God. Who can 
see all the preparations for the consignment of a body to 
the grave, and all the awful realities of grief and despair 
in dear and beloved friends, without being terrified, or 
appalled, or dismayed, and roused to sympathy and 
thought^? The worldly-minded and the callous are but 
little affected by such scenes. 

STEWART. 

To such as these I would say, 

" Think you the soul when this life's rattles cease, 
" Has nothing more of manly to succeed ? 
" Contrast the taste immortal, learn e'en now 
" To relish what alone subsists hereafter." 

Young. 

I would exhort them not to suffer the vain boasting of 

g2 



84 COLLOQUY V. 

philosophy, nor the pride of knowledge, to engross their 
principal thoughts ; but to 

" Learn hence of mortal things how vain the boast !" 

That philosophy which has for its object the con- 
sideration of mind, the immortal essence of man, and 
which, in the purity of a separated principle, is now 
addressing you, ghost-like and philosopher still, is a noble 
object. It was one that claimed my particular atten- 
tion in my capacity of Professor of Moral Philosophy. 
At a former meeting you referred to the influence of 
Jeffrey's Critique upon Phrenology, which, I believe, had 
such an effect upon the public mind as to check the sale 
of Spurzheim's voluminous, and, if its principles can be 
relied on, able work ; but you seem to have forgotten the 
fatal blow which Dr. John Gordon aimed at the doctrine 
when it was first introduced into this country, in or 
about the year 1814. This attack was made through the 
medium of that popular and talented periodical, the 
Edinburgh Review ; and as a summary of it will shew the 
manner in which the whole attack was conducted, I will 
quote from it. Dr. Gordon says, " We look upon the 
whole doctrines, taught by these two modern peripatetics 
(Drs. Gall and Spurzheim), anatomical, physiological, 
and physiognomical, as a piece of thorough quackery from 
beginning to end ; they are a collection of mere absurdi- 
ties, without truth, connexion, or consistency, which 
nothing could have induced any man to have presented 
to the public, under pretence of instructing them, but 
absolute insanity, gross ignorance, or the most matchless 
assurance." 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This attack was not only unfair, it was virulent. Dr. 
Spurzheim answered it satisfactorily. The weight and 



COLLOQUY V. 85 

influence of this Review, which is supposed, as a matter 
of course, to countenance all that its contributors may 
think fit to allege, carried weight with this anti-phreno- 
logical article. It would have been but fair to ask Dr. 
Gordon whether he really understood the subject he 
undertook to criticize and condemn. His own article 
stands as a proof of his ignorance of a science, the propa- 
gation of which called forth his severe and unqualified 
criticism. Neither of the peripatetics, by which name 
he has been pleased, in ridicule, to designate the two 
great founders and promulgators of this doctrine, was 
either insane, grossly ignorant, or an impostor. Both 
possessed great disinterestedness, amiability, and talent. 
Of their erudition I am not able to speak explicitly ; but 
they were both liberally educated, and had each obtained 
the degree of Doctor of Medicine, which necessarily 
carries with it a notion of learning. 

STEWART. 

Taking it as a matter of course, that a contributor to 
a Review may be as liable to err as another man of equal 
abilities, and willing to allow that opinions propounded 
by such an organ have considerable influence over the 
public mind, every thing it may advance being commonly 
relied on with implicit faith, I see a disadvantage in any 
one literary periodical having unlimited power. It may 
be the source of the greatest evil as well as the greatest 
good. This Review has, I own, invariably shewn its 
determination to attempt the extirpation of every opinion, 
and to crush every project of the phrenological body. It 
certainly has succeeded in checking the progress of the 
science, but not in annihilating it. Against the anti- 
phrenological party, who were once very powerful in this 
kingdom, there has always stood forth a small party 



86 COLLOQUY V. 

against whom they could not entirely prevail. Had 
phrenology been, as Dr. Gordon asserts, anatomically, 
physiologically, and physiognomically wrong, it is a fair 
assumption to believe that its few votaries would have 
deserted it long ere this. 'Tis true there are some per- 
sons so fond of novelty, and of whatever excites curiosity, 
that no system, which carries with it a host of interesting 
associations, such as the fastidious and curious delight in, 
and such as phrenology doubtless comprises, is likely to 
be buried in total oblivion. If you could check the pas- 
sion for novelty, and make your nation contented with 
the great privileges it enjoys, and, at the same time, carry 
religion into all your social compacts and political enter- 
prises, your interests would be advanced, and your 
sources of happiness greatly augmented. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

To this I readily assent. So far, however, as phre- 
nology is concerned, the love of novelty has stimulated 
many persons to study it. New views of mind were 
required when Gall and Spurzheim shot forth their 
meteoric lights in the horizon of mental science. Now 
that I am conversant with phrenology, I grant that such 
views as were entertained by you and your school would 
not satisfy my appetite for a knowledge of the mental 
principle. To my mind the opinions of this school 
appear loaded with a metaphysical and dogmatical jargon 
which experience itself cannot account for. This Gall 
saw ; nor was Spurzheim less quick in perceiving it ; and 
while such uncertainty rested upon your theories, and 
you could not prove what you taught, and it was unrea- 
sonable to suppose that more demonstrative evidence 
rested somewhere, capable of being luminously brought 
forward, it was illiberal and unwise on the part of Dr. 



COLLOQUY V. 87 

Gordon to send forth his sweeping censures, drawing con- 
clusions from his own statements in derision of a new 
philosophy which professed to be an improvement upon 
the old. Ere, too, he so wantonly attacked the founder 
and propounder of this new theory, he should have been 
not merely conversant with the theory itself, which was 
not the case, but he should have made himself well 
acquainted with the talents, and respectablity, and temper- 
aments of the men against whom he directed so poisoned 
an arrow. Follow these men through all their labours 
in maturing their system ; observe their unwearied perse- 
verance, their assiduity, their struggles to attain truth in 
competing with their rivals; view them dissecting the brain 
— and Spurzheim, in particular, with the hand of one who 
eagerly sought to discover a new constitution of things, 
respecting which nothing had yet been elicited, under the 
conviction that some great event depended on the result 
of his researches, and which, on being revealed, would 
forward the interests of mankind, and aid the promotion 
of truth. 

STEWART. 

Think you they were perfectly disinterested in their 
labours ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I know not what Spurzheim might have sacrificed in 
devoting his time so entirely to the establishment and 
promulgation of this doctrine. He became a disciple of 
Gall when a tutor in a private family at Vienna. His 
father was a farmer at Longvick, near Treves, on the 
Moselle. He was born in the year 1776, the 31st of 
December. With the view of being bred to the minis- 
try, or the profession of Theology, he was sent, at a 
proper age, to Treves, an University of great celebrity. 



H8 COLLOQUY V. 

From thence he was driven to Vienna, in 1799, by the 
war that then ravaged those parts. Dr. Gall was now 
settled at Vienna, as a physician, and lecturer on Phre- 
nology. This course he pursued for about four years. 
Spurzheim, probably, first attended these lectures from 
curiosity, but ultimately he became a disciple ; I pretend 
not to say whether it was from the eloquence, force, 
energy, and persuasiveness of the lecturer, or the ration- 
ality and truth which his expositions conveyed. Gall 
appears to have made greater sacrifices than Spurzheim. 
At the expiration of these four years his doctrines were 
deemed dangerous, and he was prevented lecturing in the 
year 1805 by an " imperial interdict." The moral health 
of the Austrians was considered to be in danger. He 
was requested either to leave the city, or relinquish his 
lectures. He chose the former, though he felt some 
repugnance in obeying the proscription, and accordingly 
resigned his practice, which, it was reasonable to suppose, 
was likely to prove more lucrative than the pursuit of a 
new theory, the truth and utility of which had not yet 
been proved. Leaving Vienna, he visited many parts of 
the North of Europe, where he was well received. In 
these excursions he was accompanied by Spurzheim. In 
1807 they reached Paris, where they presented to the 
Institute a paper descriptive or illustrative of some new 
features in the constitution of the brain. Here they 
diligently prosecuted their researches, and composed their 
phrenological work, entitled " The Anatomy and Physi- 
ology of the Nervous System in general, and of the Brain 
in particular ; with observations upon the possibility of 
ascertaining several intellectual and moral dispositions of 
men and animals, by the configuration of their heads :" 
4 vols, folio, with an atlas of 100 plates. This work was 
not finished till 1819, owing, it is said, to some " dis- 



COLLOQUY V. 89 

agreement between the authors." Gall ultimately pub- 
lished it; and his friend, Prince Metternich, Austrian 
Minister at the French Court, engaged, I believe, to 
defray the expences. 

STEWART. 

Of the sincerity of the intentions of these men there 
can be no question. They were, I feel assured, benevo- 
lent and upright ; nor have I any reason to doubt their 
abilities, further than that they appeared to uphold a 
doctrine which, at first, was considered to have few pre- 
tensions to truth. In other respects they had the charac- 
ter of being men of extensive information and great 
sagacity. Dr. Spurzheim published several works in 
England, which he first visited, I believe, in 1814, and 
continued to make this country his residence until 1832, 
with the exception of about eight years that he passed at 
Paris in the interval. These works, ten in number, on 
various subjects connected with his favourite study, are 
proofs of an ardent, powerful, and well-informed mind. 
I was not inattentive to the progress of this extraordinary 
man, though I refused my assent to his doctrine. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The works to which you allude are, " The new Phy- 
siognomical System ;" — <e Phrenology, or the Doctrine of 
the Mind ;" — (l Philosophical Principles of Phrenology f 
— " Outlines of Phrenology ;" — " Elementary Principles 
of Education ;" — " Examination of the Objections made 
in Great Britain against Phrenology j" — < ' Observations on 
Insanity ;" — u Illustrations on Phrenology in Connexion 
with the Study of Physiognomy ; — S€ A Catechism of 
Man ;" — " The Anatomy of the Brain." Some of these 
works are elaborate, and indicative of deep research 



90 COLLOQUY V. 

and much acumen. The production he jointly composed 
with Gall, is, perhaps, the noblest monument of his talents; 
but he never discovered or displayed a more elevated or 
powerful intellect than his instructor. I have heard it 
said by a gentleman well acquainted with Spurzheim, 
that he was very amiable, communicative, and an agree- 
able companion. The peculiarity of his dialect gave an 
additional interest to his conversation, which was fre- 
quently humorous and witty. 

STEWART. 

Gall, I believe, was equally respected for private worth, 
and died much lamented by his particular friends and ac- 
quaintances. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 
Those who knew him best, esteemed him the most, 
and were greatly attached to him. He died in France at 
his country-house, Montronge, near Paris, in 1828. 
Spurzheim departed this life at Boston, in America, 
November 10th, 1832. He had left England but a few 
months previously, with a view of giving the Americans 
an insight into the fundamental principles of his doctrine. 
The remains of Gall repose in the burial-ground of Pere 
la Chaise, between the tombs of Moliere and La Fontaine. 
A funeral oration was delivered over his grave by three of 
his friends, Professor Broussais, Dr. Fossati, and Dr. 
Londe. Similar ceremonies were observed at the grave 
of Spurzheim, by Professor Jollin, and the Rev. Mr. 
Pierpoint, commemorative of his virtues, his zeal, and 
his talent. 

STEWART. 

The mortal remains of Gall repose in the greatest 
cemetery in the world ; one in which the bodies of some 



COLLOQUY V. 91 

of the most illustrious heroes, and statesmen, and literary 
and scientific men in the universe are deposited. " The 
sojourner of three days in Paris is sure to see Pere la 
Chaise as one of the most interesting wonders of the 
wonderful city. In a century or two the cemetery in the 
Harrow Road may resemble it. Time may enable Eng- 
land to compete with her great Rival in this matter, as she 
has done in most others ; but trees do not grow great in 
a few summers, nor, indeed, do people die fast enough 
to throng the hundred acre burial-place, so as to make it 
picturesque in a few seasons. Pere la Chaise at present 
stands alone in its gloomy interest — its associations of 
undying love and imperishable glory — its grandeur and 
its frippery — its simple green mounds and its large 
sepulchres of marble — a remarkable illustration of the 
French character — a strange blending of the little and 
the great/' 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Spurzheim made many improvements in the system 
of his master. He was a better anatomist, and did more 
for phrenology by proving that he had a fair anatomical 
groundwork whereon to rest his principles. He likewise 
gave new and more appropriate names to the organs, as 
time and experience developed their functions. Spurz- 
heim, also, detected new organs, some of which, how- 
ever, remain to this day somewhat doubtful. These are, 
Order, Eventuality, Inhabitiveness, Hope, Time, Con- 
scientiousness, Size, Marvellousness, and Weight or 
Resistance, altogether nine in number. His Lectures, in 
England, comprised a fund of information and anecdote. 
They were generally well attended, and Spurzheim suc- 
ceeded in convincing some of his stan chest opponents of 
the truth of his system — some by the anatomical dis- 



92 COLLOQUY V. 

closures he made. In the presence of the first anatomists 
of Great Britain he dissected the brain, and had the 
satisfaction of hearing that he had done much for the 
improvement of this branch of medical study. Aber- 
nethy, and several others, confessed that they could offer 
no rational objection to his doctrine. Even at this early 
stage of its progress, it is admitted by those who did not 
readily consent to it, that it bore an air of plausibility, 
and an appearance of truth which it would be difficult to 
confute on any recognized principles. 

STEWART. 
In Scotland Spurzheim propounded his theory with 
almost unparalleled success. He saw the readiness with 
which the Scotch entered into his views, and the ability 
of the men who enlisted under his banner. He prog- 
nosticated, in consequence, that Scotland would be a kind 
of phrenological sun which should quicken and move the 
rest of the world. He looked upon that country as the 
great centre from whence should be spread the principles 
he had so zealously endeavoured to establish in England. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 
His prophecy has been in part fulfilled. In no country 
is phrenology better understood, or more ably elucidated. 
From none have such elaborate and scientific works on 
this subject been sent forth. Mr. peorge Combe, and 
his relative, Dr. Andrew Combe, stand foremost in the 
list of these disciples. The name of the former is well 
known throughout a great part of Europe in connexion 
with his able phrenological works. 

STEWART. 
Notwithstanding the prejudice I entertained against 
phrenology, I could not be insensible of one characteristic 



COLLOQUY V. 93 

feature in man which certainly goes to establish its truth. 
This feature is the size of the forehead. There is no fact, 
I think, better authenticated than that it is an indication 
of intellect. When capacious, wide, and high, there is 
usually a power of mind which has no equal or counter- 
part in a smaller conformation. However invalid and 
questionable your details may be considered, to this no 
attentive observer can offer a reasonable objection. It is 
one of your principles that size is an indicator of power ; 
it is another, that this part of the brain is the intellectual 
portion or lobe ; so far I am unable to controvert your 
position. Education, in all its various forms, may, I 
imagine^ go far to supply the deficiency of size, as it 
tends to expand the faculties of the mind, and render 
them active, which is no more than Nature does when 
she favourably develops herself in the form of an expanded 
forehead. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

If these principles can be supported upon demonstrative 
evidence — if even your own admission be rational and 
indisputable, in what a favourable position is not phreno- 
logy placed? Here we have testimony, provided by Nature 
herself, which is the strongest we can have, that a part of 
the whole, is at least true — i. e. that a large mass of brain 
is accompanied by a fuller manifestation of intellect, a 
greater amount of mental sagacity, than a small mass. 
Now this very principle forms a part of all our details ; 
without such a principle the details would be irrational. 
It is the life-spring of phrenology. Here is evidence that 
the more brain there is, the more mind there is ; and 
hence that the brain is the organ of the mind. This is 
a corollary necessarily arising out of the subject in 
question, and with it is conveyed a fact which the phreno- 



94 COLLOQUY V. 

logical societies of Europe may defy all their enemies to 
disprove. Long before I saw the legitimacy of any portion 
of the details, I felt certain that phrenologists had taken 
a station of which they could not easily be dispossessed. 
I was convinced that the structure they had reared was 
on a solid foundation, whatever the materials might be of 
which that structure was composed. I reflected long upon 
the system before I could divine its use, or perceive its 
beauties and excellencies. There was something about it 
to which my mind was not accustomed ; and until the 
science was brought before my view in all its connexions 
and bearings, through the curiosity I felt to make myself 
acquainted with them, it was natural that wonder should 
precede admiration, and incredulity belief. Its exterior 
was unprepossessing before I could associate with it such 
a species of interest as the usefulness of the design, and 
the excellent arrangements of the interior were capable of 
affording. How much do not appearances in nature 
depend for their excellencies and beauties on the relative 
circumstances connected with them ? Association is to the 
mind what a flower is to its branch. We water and 
admire the tree so far as it administers pleasure to the 
senses ; without its fruits it would cease to interest. 
Ordinary features grow more pleasing to the sight as the 
affections are discovered to be warm, the intellect vigor- 
ous, and the disposition amiable. A locality, however 
unvaried and dreary, becomes attractive in proportion to 
the domestic or other happiness experienced there by the 
individual. But though phrenology failed to impress me 
favourably at first, I was willing to believe that, while the 
mind is so fertile in projecting schemes of general utility, 
there was little doubt of the designers having some laud- 
able object in view, and that, although the building 
appeared so intricate, there were, at least, some architects 



COLLOQUY V. 95 

engaged in its formation, of whose abilities and superior 
understanding none could doubt. 

STEWART. 

It has been a common practice with artists, from 
time immemorial, to give the heads of superior per- 
sonages a large forehead. The intent of this is either to 
give nobility to the countenance, or capacity to the mind. 
Since that nobility depends greatly on expression, which 
is derived exclusively from the characteristic bearing of 
the mind, and since this bearing is powerful in conformity 
to the capacity of that forehead, the argument resolves 
itself into the fact, that such a portraiture is an indication 
of an elevated intellect, be the object of the artist what it 
might. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Artists have ever been studiously careful in giving 
Christ, the perfection of man in physical development, a 
large and expanded forehead. This is just what the 
phrenologist would do; I do not say whether it would be 
with the same intention, viz, to indicate a capacious and 
full-grown mind. 

STEWART. 

It has been the endeavour of some artists to portray, 
by the chisel, the living God— Jehovah of the universe. 
This is profanation. To personate the Saviour is not 
indecorous, because he condescended to clothe himself in 
human flesh, and took upon himself the form of man. 
As such we know him ; and as such it cannot be profane to 
represent him : but when human invention attempts to 
give form to one who may have no form ; when it seeks 
to give us a notion of the Almighty, of whom not even 



96 COLLOQUY V. 

the highest soaring mind can form any adequate concep- 
tion; when it assigns limits to one who is Illimitable, 
Omniscient, Infinite, how little must that artist be aware 
of the presumption of his efforts, how little imagine that his 
attempts are a mere mockery— feeble, impotent, impious ! 
I would not that any man should ever think or speak of 
Jehovah without reverently pausing. The awe and 
reverence in which the Jews held his name, much more 
his person, should be kept in remembrance. They were 
not suffered to mention his name till they had arrived at 
the age of thirty. Till then it was supposed their 
minds were not sufficiently matured to address Him, or 
speak of Him with becoming submission, awe, devotion, 
and deep respect. In the present day it is often men- 
tioned much less respectfully than the name of an earthly 
king, or even of an inferior person. When not used pro- 
fanely, it is too frequently mentioned irreverently. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

In the museum of the late Mr. Green, of Lichfield, 
there was, some years ago, an image of Jehovah support- 
ing the mangled body of his Son, just taken down from 
the cross. The whole figure is supposed to have been 
originally intended to represent the Triune Jehovah. On 
the chin of the Almighty were the remains of a dove, 
designed, it is conceived, to be emblematic of the Holy 
Ghost. The principal figure presented a very majestic 
appearance, and was evidently a work of genius. Still, it 
could not be said to be the production of a man animated 
by a just sense of the relation he bore to the Being whom 
he thus irreverently treated*. 



* See Gentleman's Magazine for 1788, Part I. page 9. 



(97) 



COLLOQUY VI. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



An at o my, the parent of all sound physiological science, 
was little understood even by the brighter geniuses of the 
ancients ; and human nature, which they, amidst all 
the ignorance and superstition that surrounded and guided 
them, sought much to understand, was in consequence 
comparatively unknown. The early Egyptians who prac- 
tised medicine, amongst whom we may mention Thouth, 
Apis, and Serapis, were ignorant of anatomy. With the 
greatest skill they embalmed the human body, and thus 
preserved it entire in structure ; but they considered it 
an offence to the gods they worshipped, to mutilate it by 
dissection. Under the heathen mythology, priests alone 
were permitted to inspect the entrails of animals slain for 
sacrifice, for the purpose of augury, and though founded 
on a very mistaken notion, were allowed this privilege 
exclusively. They were the only order of men who, in 
the darker ages of the world, practised the healing art ; 
and being so remarkable in those days for their juggling 
and imposture, were the least fitted to destroy the delu- 
sion and superstition which affected less interested minds. 
So great was the prejudice against human dissection at 
one time, that for many years it was prohibited in some 

H 



98 COLLOQUY VI. 

parts of the world. Hippocrates, Democritus, Aristotle, 
and Rufus dissected brutes only, and by this method 
judged of the structure of the human body. The 
Ptolemies were almost the first persons in authority who 
permitted human bodies to be dissected. 

STEWART. 

The Ptolemies may, then, be considered the greatest 
promoters of medicine ; for without a knowledge of the 
structure of the human body, it is not to be expected that 
efficient means can be employed to remove any irregu- 
larity to which it may be subject. To these men the 
literary world also is greatly indebted. Till their time, 
the Egyptians were in comparative darkness in literature. 
For a long period previously, Egypt had been known for 
her skill in abstruse sciences ; but no accounts have ever 
reached European nations of her having been famed for 
that literary taste for which she afterwards became so 
renowned. The liberality of Ptolemy the Second in- 
duced philosophers and poets of celebrity to seek his 
patronage, and take cover under his wings. He had 
used every exertion to obtain all the manuscripts of any 
value, which he added to the library his father had 
formed at Alexandria. This library, at a more subse- 
quent date, became celebrated for the great collection of 
books it contained, being said to have possessed seven 
hundred thousand volumes ; but they were ultimately 
destroyed by fire, when, there is reason to suppose, some 
of the noblest productions ever composed were lost to 
posterity. This Ptolemy was the patron of that second 
Homer, the son of the Byzantine Poetess, Myro. Under 
him also flourished Theocritus, Apollonius Rhodius, and 
many others, among whom were some tragic poets, the 
above Homer being not the least among them. The seven 



COLLOQUY VI. 99 

brightest poets, Alexander, Philiscus, Lycophron, Sosi- 
theus, iEantides, Sosiphanes, and Homer, were called 
Pleiades. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This universal patronage was the only way to dissi- 
pate that darkness which had overspread the eastern 
world — a darkness that arose chiefly from a selfish and 
superstitious priesthood, who found it to their advantage 
to keep the world in ignorance, and to affect a knowledge 
in arts and sciences which they had not power to attain. 
This very spirit descended, in a shape more or less gene- 
ral, to the period when the art of printing was intro- 
duced. The learned thought learning would be deroga- 
tory, if the vulgar and humble in life were permitted to 
taste of its advantages ; and for a long time it was deemed 
advisable by the high-born to be ignorant when these 
advantages became more universally enjoyed. Some of 
our own nobility would neither learn to read nor write. 
It was vulgar ; nor were the Italians less illiberal and 
ignorant in this respect. Learning, however, was no 
longer to be confined to the Cloister and the Court ; and 
so much was the pride of their frequenters hurt, that it 
was considered prudent to interdict the sale, if not 
the printing, of a work under a certain price, which 
was extravagant enough to prevent the rapid spread of 
literature among the humbler classes. But to revert to 
my subject. Under the Ptolemies, Herophilus and 
Erasistratus unbarred that door which led to a more 
correct knowledge of the human frame. So ardent were 
these men in the pursuit of anatomical and physiological 
information, that they were accused of having dissected 
living human subjects. It was not, however, until after 
the Christian era that the beautiful structure of the body 
h 2 



100 COLLOQUY VI. 

was thoroughly understood ; and certainly not until the 
latter part of the eighteenth century, that the brain, the 
most important part of that body, was dissected in such 
a manner as to develop its real constitution. This new 
discovery, the merits of which are claimed by Doctors 
Gall and Spurzheim, surpasses all others of an anatomical 
description. It has given to that comparative darkness 
and obscurity which attended the philosophy of mind a 
new light, and broken those shackles which chained us 
down to a habit of philosophizing too arid and too specu- 
lative. It is impossible to take a right view of physiology 
without a correct system of anatomy. In this case no 
species of mental philosophy or mental physiology can 
be correct and unexceptionable, which is not established 
upon just and proper views of anatomy — the construction 
of the brain. A physiological system of the brain would 
be necessarily false, says Spurzheim, were it in contradic- 
tion to its anatomical structure. Indeed, we have no 
reason to presume — so much is it a law of nature, that 
matter shall be the instrument of all finite operations — 
that a system of physiology, mental or vital, can be 
perfect without comprehending the material medium 
through which they are manifested ; and those who have 
gained the best information respecting the constitution of 
organic matter, in its development, its divisions, and its 
adaptations, will be the most likely to entertain legitimate 
views of its functional economy, which economy com- 
prises the mental physiology spoken of. Therefore Gall 
and Spurzheim, whose discovery gave them an advantage 
in being correctly informed with regard to the structure 
of the brain — the seat and instrument of the mind — must 
have been the best able to form the most proper view of 
its physiology, the physiology of the mind. The original 
mode of dissection, and the opinions of anatomists as to 



COLLOQUY VI. 101 

the structure of the brain, were certainly adverse to 
phrenology. One of the first circumstances that sug- 
gested the idea of the brain being composed of fibres was 
a case of hydrocephalus, or, as it is commonly termed, 
water in the head ; when the whole mass of brain was 
destroyed, except some fibrous matter divided into several 
parts, and found to run in different directions towards 
the skull, the individual, prior to decease, still mani- 
festing intellect. Upon this evidence, the dissection of 
the brain must, as a necessary consequence, have been 
conducted on a different plan. These fibres proved, 
beyond dispute, that the brain did not entirely consist of 
a homogeneous mass, as was previously supposed. The 
discovery was hailed with new acclamations of triumph 
by the few and zealous phrenologists then existing. It 
was found that these lines of fibre constituted the several 
organs now recognized by the phrenological world ; and, 
like a morning star, they had the effect of guiding the 
pilgrim from a path which before was too intricate to be 
pursued with safety and with ease. As these fibres or 
organs are made to terminate at the surface of the brain, 
in such a variety of points as to occupy nearly the whole 
of the surface, it may be easily conceived that the mys- 
tery which hung over the science, as to the probability 
of different parts of the brain performing different func- 
tions, was thereby greatly lessened; and that, in 
fact, a phrenological system would be the inevitable 
consequence of such a discovery. The brain is composed 
of an infinite number of distinct parts. Those which fill 
the most important stations in this new science are, the 
cerebrum, the cerebellum, and medulla oblongata. The 
cerebrum, understood in general to comprise the brain, 
occupies the whole of the anterior, inferior, and superior 
parts of the head. It consists of convolutions or folds, 
and is divided into two sections, called hemispheres. In 



102 COLLOQUY VI. 

these convolutions all the organs of intellect, sentiment, 
perception, and propensity, except amativeness, lie. This 
organ exists in the cerebellum, which some anatomists 
have called the little brain ; others, a mere appendage to 
the brain. It is about one-ninth less in size than the 
cerebrum in persons arrived at a mature age, and about a 
twelfth less in children. It occupies the posterior and 
lower part of the head. The medulla oblongata seems 
to be a continuation of the spinal marrow : it passes 
immediately before the cerebellum, and preserves a con- 
nexion between this part and the cerebrum. The hemi- 
spheres of the brain are, in every respect, alike in struc- 
ture : one occupies the right, the other the left part of 
the head; and they perform the same functions. The 
brain is therefore considered as a double organ : between 
the two sections or hemispheres there is a membrane of 
firm texture, named the falciform process of the dura 
mater, which preserves the division. There is also a 
membrane that divides the cerebrum from the cerebellum, 
and this is called the tentorium membrane. Even Hip- 
pocrates allowed that the brain is double ; and no anato- 
mist since his time has presumed to doubt it. This 
circumstance is a very important feature in phrenology. 
It is from the medulla oblongata that the fibres seem to 
originate : they take different directions, and minister to 
different purposes. To adopt the simile of Mr. George 
Combe, an organ is like an inverted cone, with its apex 
in the medulla, and its base at the surface of the brain. 
The organ, as it proceeds from the medulla, is very small 
and narrow ; towards the surface it gradually enlarges. 
These particular circumstances, so well adapted to give a 
solid foundation to phrenology, were overlooked or un- 
known by all anatomists who preceded Gall and Spurz- 
heim. The former mode of dissecting the brain was by 
cutting or slicing it in a transverse manner, which was 



COLLOQUY VI. 103 

the least likely mode of detecting the very delicate bun- 
dles of fibres contained in its substance. Excepting such 
an instance as that of hydrocephalus just mentioned, the 
phrenologist had no other means of discovering these 
several bundles than by tearing or dividing the brain with 
the finger, or some other blunt instrument, in the line of 
its fibres, and thus separating one mass from another : 
unless at least he resorted to chemical analysis, which is 
a process that has thrown much light upon this subject. 
Spurzheim, in particular, begau by tracing these bundles 
to and from their origin ; and at last knew from whence 
they sprung, what course they took, where they termi- 
nated, and what attended them. He sought not only for 
these things, but for the consistence, colour, and size of 
the bundles; and he proved that each bundle forms a 
different organ. He moreover discovered that the brain 
and nerves are composed of two kinds of matter; the 
cineritious, or grey and pulpy mass without apparent 
organization, noticed by all anatomists, and the fibrous 
matter in question. This cineritious matter varies a little 
in colour and consistence, and is very vascular. It has 
been regarded as a body of small blood-vessels, so vas- 
cular is it. Gall and Spurzheim looked upon it as the 
matrix of the nervous fibres — i. e. the organs. In these 
fibres there is a more perfect organization than what we 
perceive in the cineritious and softer substance. An ex- 
ceedingly ingenious mode of argument is adopted by 
Spurzheim, to shew that the nervous or fibrous matter is 
produced from this softer substance, which is supposed 
to secrete a nervous fluid. " It is objected," he says, 
<l that all organic parts are produced and nourished from 
the blood. This is true : it does not, however, always 
happen immediately, but also mediately. We accord- 
ingly find, that various organic parts take origin imme- 



104 COLLOQUY VI. 

diately from a soft greyish substance, and only mediately 
from the circulating fluids. Plants spring from a soft 
substance. In trees, wherever a branch originates, it 
first happens that a certain quantity of greyish substance 
is deposited from the sap, and that there from this sub- 
stance fibres arise. These fibres are next by one extre- 
mity brought into communication with the trunk, and 
by this means with the roots ; and by the other extremity 
they form the branch. The new branch, therefore, is 
not the continuation of the inferior ligneous fibres, or of 
the roots — it is brought only into communication with 
them. This is also evident from the consideration that 
all the branches taken together would constitute a larger 
mass than the trunks or the roots. The mutual influence 
of the roots and branches is sufficiently explained by the 
communication of these parts ; and therefore it is that the 
injuries of the roots do harm to the branches, and vice 
versa." By an analogous mode of reasoning, several 
principles in phrenology may be explained upon the view 
here taken of the tree in its growth, and the communica- 
tion and connexion of its several parts. The foetal brain 
possesses no fibre. It is composed of the cineritious 
matter : fibres, however, become gradually formed. The 
ganglia of worms, crustaceous and other animals, from 
whence nervous fibres arise, possess this grey substance. 
The bones of animals appear to be deposited from carti- 
lage, the softer of the two substances. The nervous 
matter first detected in the brain of the foetus — and it is 
visible in certain parts sooner than it is in others — is 
always found to emanate from the cineritious mass. 
From these circumstances there is ample reason to con- 
clude, that nerves, cerebral or not, originate in this mass. 
It is generally found that the quantity of fibre is in 
proportion to the cineritious matter. Spurzheim, in his 



COLLOQUY VI. 105 

anatomy of the human brain, enters very fully into this 
subject. The view which he takes of it is of a most 
interesting as well as useful character. The difference of 
opinion that originally existed concerning the exact nature 
of the white and more perfectly organized substance, was 
very great. Those persons who thought that it resembled 
matter of a fibrous character — not understanding, perhaps, 
of what use it would be in the brain — advanced many 
specious arguments to account for it. Knowing com- 
paratively nothing of the particular anatomical discovery 
which Spurzheim made, they found the utmost difficulty in 
assigning different organs to different functions ; although 
many rude attempts — rude, on account of the want of a 
legitimate application of the fibrous matter, and a tho- 
rough knowledge of its constitution in every particular — 
were made ; and thus no direct and self-evident conclu- 
sions were drawn. The mode of dissection pursued by 
anatomists was of itself sufficient to prevent the detec- 
tion of this structure in those parts which are evidently 
composed of it, such as the pyramidal bundles, and the 
great commissure. The brain was supposed to consist 
solely of medullary matter — a name that excludes all idea 
of fibre. It is now divided into medullary and nervous 
matter, in order to distinguish the soft from the white, 
harder, and more perfectly organized substance — the 
fibres and organs. Dr. John Dryander, a native of 
Wetteran, in Hesse, referred, early in the sixteenth cen- 
tury, to several particulars connected with the medullary 
and cortical parts of the brain previously unknown. It 
appears that he was the first to point out many distin- 
guishing marks between them. At a later period in the 
same century, Varolius, who discovered the Pons Varolii 
of the brain — so named after him for the discovery — gave 
that third grand division, the medulla oblongata. Another 



106 COLLOQUY VI. 

very great mistake in the anatomical system of our own 
and foreign schools, was discovered by the new anatomy 
to consist in regarding the brain as the centre of the 
nervous system. Even to this day, notwithstanding the 
light which this anatomy has thrown upon the subject, 
the central mass is viewed, by every superficial reasoner 
at least, as a central point. There are many systems and 
pairs of nerves all having their own origin, while, at the 
same time, all are either directly or indirectly united. 
Mallacarne, who long preceded Gall, did not believe the 
nerves had a central point in the brain ; and he was one 
of the first, if not the first, to promulgate this doctrine. 
The spinal marrow, which in all ages was deemed a pro- 
longation of the brain, is now proved not to be so : nor is 
any one pair of nerves a prolongation of another pair. 
Spurzheim, in speaking of a difference in the external 
apparatus and internal structure of the nerves, and in 
contradiction to Baron Cuvier, whose opinion he is com- 
bating, says that there are five kinds of nerves. He sub- 
divides each of these kinds : makes the first kind to 
preside over automatic life; the second over voluntary 
motion ; the third over the functions of the five senses ; 
the fourth over the moral feelings; and the fifth over the 
intellectual faculties. The nerves of the first kind, he 
says, are soft and grey, or whitish red; those of the 
second white and firm ; those of the five external senses 
different from each other in consistence, colour, form, and 
texture ; and those of the fourth and fifth, which consti- 
tute the nervous fibres spoken of, white and delicate. It 
is, moreover, believed, that every nerve has its origin in 
a certain quantity of cineritious substance. After this 
he has recourse to many forcible and ingenious arguments 
to prove that the internal structure of the nerves must be 
different, to account for the different physiological phe- 






COLLOQUY VI. 107 

nomena which exist : and the means used by him to shew 
that the brain is not the central point of the nervous 
system, contradictory as they may be to all prior opinions, 
are both satisfactory and interesting. It is upon his 
anatomy — upon the grand and important features which 
he has detected in the cerebral structure, that many per- 
sons have been led to yield unqualified assent to the new 
science. Seeing that such an anatomy of the brain must 
unavoidably be attended with different results— that a 
different physiological system must be founded upon it — 
and that the structure of the brain cannot be in contra- 
diction to its physiological principles, or vice versa, it is 
impossible to arrive at any other conclusion than that 
which is favourable to phrenology. We may conclude 
from the foregoing observations, that there is a nerve for 
each of the various and different functions of automatic 
life, forming one kind of nerves : a nerve for each of the 
five external senses, forming a second kind : a nerve for 
voluntary motion, forming a third kind : and a bundle of 
nerves for each of the faculties of the mind, forming a 
fourth kind. We also learn, that these different kinds of 
nerves are different in their appearance and structure. It 
is further implied, that every nerve, and every bundle of 
nerves of each kind, which perform different functions in 
the body, are different in character, although none may 
be perceived. Functions evidently differ, while we are 
not able to discover any difference in the constitution of 
their respective organs. From the remarks already made, 
it may be likewise inferred, that while a bundle of nerves 
constitutes an organ of the brain, and is necessary for the 
manifestation of an intellectual faculty, only one nerve is 
required for the performance of those functions which 
are not intellectual. Why there should be a plurality of 
nerves required for the manifestation of benevolence, for 



108 COLLOQUY VI. 

instance, and only one nerve for the manifestation of any 
vital faculty, it is impossible to say, unless it be that the 
development of this latter faculty requires a more simple 
organ, being in itself very simple, compared with that of 
benevolence, which produces such various degrees of 
action. The nerves of feeling and voluntary motion are 
single ; but as there would be neither feeling nor volun- 
tary motion without a brain, as it is the brain which 
experiences the consciousness of feeling, and the brain 
whence voluntary motion arises, or is propagated, and as 
no organs have as yet been discovered in the brain with- 
out forming bundles of nerves, we have no reason to 
presume that either feeling or voluntary motion is the 
product of a single nerve. There have not, however, as 
before stated, been any organs found in the brain exclu- 
sively devoted to the manifestation of these two functions. 
What are commonly called nerves of feeling and of 
motion, and which unquestionably are instrumental, the 
same as the ophthalmic and the olfactory nerves, do not 
emanate from the brain ; therefore, the consciousness of 
feeling that is experienced in the brain, and the power 
of motion given by the brain, are received and admini- 
stered through indirect sources. The brain has a great 
connexion with other nervous systems ; greater, in fact, 
than those systems have with each other. By their in- 
strumentality the mind manifests functions of which it 
would be otherwise incapable ; but the nature of the 
laws of connexion is so extraordinary, so truly beyond 
the reach and depth of human comprehension, that 
every theory instituted with respect to it must be both 
speculative and inconclusive. According, says Spurzheim, 
to our anatomical principles, no nerve can be derived 
either from another nerve or from the brain. Every 
nerve has its own origin, and we call brain the nervous 



COLLOQUY VI. 109 

mass which is joined to the nerves of motion and the five 
external senses, and by means of which the moral senti- 
ments and intellectual faculties are manifested. 



STEWART. 

It is a favourite opinion of phrenologists that their 
new view of the brain, upon which you have now so fully 
dwelt, will open some avenue to the cure of insanities. 
If any thing could be done to diminish the increase of so 
wretched a malady in this highly-favoured country, a 
blessing would be induced of inconceivable extent ; and 
if, when it occurs, it could be speedily eradicated by any 
physical or moral measures within the power of the phre- 
nologist to supply, and such as have not yet been pro- 
vided, phrenology would claim precedence in usefulness 
to any science of modern origin. The number of insane 
persons in England has been greatly augmented within 
the last twenty years : it has been magnified nearly 
threefold. In the year 1829 England alone possessed 
about 13,000 lunatics and idiots together. Lunatics are 
the most numerous, being about six to five ; and it has 
been stated upon fair premises, that there is one out of 
every thousand of the English population afflicted with 
one or the other of these maladies. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Phrenologists have been in great hope of furnishing 
some new palliatives, if not specific remedies, for this 
affection, from the phrenological mine, which promises 
to yield so many materials for the benefit of mankind. 
It certainly appears that time and labour will produce 
much that they expect to find, yet not all that might be 
looked for. On some occasion enthusiasm outruns reason 



110 COLLOQUY VI. 

and prudence, and I fear that the anticipations of some 
well-meaning phrenologists, who are over zealous in the 
cause they advocate, will eventually prove abortive. It is 
much to be desired that this should not be the event of 
anticipations founded on motives having benevolence for 
their object. Desirous as I am that every expectation 
should be realized which relates to the prospect of phre- 
nology being of service in insanities, I confess that 
some misgivings have long taken possession of my mind 
so far as the extent of the anticipated usefulness is con- 
cerned. That the science is better calculated than any 
other to throw light upon the nature of this disease, in 
its various forms, there can be no doubt ; but having 
done this, it has, perhaps, afforded all that we have reason 
to expect it will. One step towards finding a fit remedy 
for a disease, is to be acquainted with the features and 
nature of the disease itself; but there appears an impedi- 
ment in the way of this branch of pathology which 
no sagacity, no discernment, and no perseverance in man 
seems equal to surmount. Not that his efforts have 
hitherto been useless, or that none are to be still per- 
sisted in ; for there is a probability of some improvement 
in the remedial art, even here, being effected. But the 
prospect of finding remedial measures for mental maladies 
is less flattering and hopeful than is the case in those dis- 
orders which affect the vital functions. 

STEWART. 

Disorders of the mind are generally produced by moral 
causes, over which the physician has little or no controul. 
For this simple reason they must be more incurable. It 
is impossible to gain such possession of the mind of a 
maniac as to bring the reason into play, so that it may 



COLLOQUY VI. Ill 

act as a corrective of itself. All delusions are of the 
reason, by whatever cause they may be produced; and the 
difficulty of bringing it into a healthy state, when no 
physical cause is in operation, is almost tantamount to an 
impossibility, because the very quality that is diseased 
must be its own corrective. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

True. — When the cause of insanity is moral, the 
delusion is always found to be more permanent than when 
it is physical. The reason is evident: physical defects 
may be removed by the art of the physician, and with 
them the evils they entail, an effect being removable with 
the cause which gives it birth. But in the removal of 
insanities, having external causes for their origin, our 
remedy rests with a quality that is, as you justly observe, 
to be its own corrective. One great object may be sup- 
posed to consist in removing the external causes ; from 
this there is often but little advantage to be gained to the 
insane, as the effect, in such cases of madness, becomes 
independent of its cause. The mind, in this state, is not 
capable of forming any just estimate of probabilities or 
improbabilities, or the advantages or disadvantages at- 
tached to the removal of the object, the subject of its own 
delusion. Whatever remedies a moralist may find in this 
matter, would be equal, perhaps, to any suggested by the 
phrenologist. In phrenology there is this advantage. We 
are taught that each organ is the instrument of a certain 
faculty ; and experience teaches us that this very faculty, 
exclusive of all others, may be deluded — in other words, 
insane. Phrenology also informs us that insanity of this 
faculty may proceed from derangement of its organ. It is, 
indeed, the opinion of all phrenologists, that all insanities 
are attended by a disordered state of the brain ; this dis- 



112 COLLOQUY VI. 

order constituting the proximate cause, whatever might 
have been the original or remote cause. 

STEWART. 

Metaphysicians tell us that disease cannot possibly 
occur to mind, because it is immaterial. This is rational. 
Mind itself can be the subject of no corruption. If its 
healthy manifestations require, for their exercise, a 
healthy instrument, it is reasonable and plausible to con- 
jecture that an unhealthy condition of that instrument 
would be attended by an irregular exhibition of its own 
operations. We do not look for healthy bile from an un- 
healthy liver; nor sweet and healthy exhalations from 
a putrid carcass. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

For a more apt simile ; we scarcely dare hope to find 
good fruit on a good tree when situated in an ungenial 
and unwholesome clime. Mind is the tree — the brain the 
ungenial clime — the manifestations or delusions the fruit. 
In monomania, or partial insanities, we seldom find more 
than partial disorder of the brain : and, to the great satis- 
faction of the phrenologist, the very part of the brain said 
by him to manifest the faculty, which is so irregular in 
its operation as to cause the monomania, is that which is 
found disordered. Insanities occasionally exist without 
leaving any trace or examination after death of a de- 
ranged brain ; but there is the greatest reason to suppose 
that no irregularity of function in the animal economy, 
whether it be vital or mental, takes place without some 
lesion, some disorder of the organic parts. The most 
acute nervous diseases exist without any perceptible dis- 
order of the nerve itself; and unhealthy secretions are 
often deposited when no visible defect is found in the 



COLLOQUY VI. 313 

organs whence they arise. Such is the peculiar character 
of the human frame, unaccountable to man. It is, 
nevertheless, taken for granted, by reasoning from 
analogy, that there is physical derangement at all times. 
Experience, as well as analogy, proves that it is com- 
monly so, there being generally demonstrative evidence 
to this effect afforded. 



STEWART. 

If it can be proved that a partial insanity of the mind 
may be traced to a partial disease of the brain, the faculty 
deranged being virtually of that part of the brain which 
is declared by phrenologists to be its organ, there must be 
both usefulness and truth in phrenology : — usefulness, 
because it is desirable to know in what part of the head 
the cause of insanity is seated, and of what the nature of 
insanity consists — truth, because evidence in favour of 
phrenology is made palpable to the senses by means of 
the diseased structure. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

The numerous testimonies of persons who have been 
witnesses of this corresponding disorder, and upon whose 
skill and veracity not a shadow of doubt rests, are enough 
to place all scruples, on this head, entirely at rest. — 
To quote the many instances in proof would be a labour 
not compensated for by the good that might be derived 
from it. I refer you to all writers on insanity, some of 
whom have depicted, in a lucid and perspicuous manner, 
the various states of the brain under various species of 
insanity. But clear as this view of the matter may 
appear, it is not so obvious that any physical means can 
i 



114 COLLOQUY VI. 

be supplied by the phrenologist for the alleviation and 
prevention of this malady. Time, it is true, may effect 
much. At present we know of no medicine that will 
affect one organ of the brain in particular; and should 
any experiment or chance happen to discover specific 
virtues in a medicine conducive to this end, it then 
remains to be discovered what particular effect that 
medicine has. If medicines could be found, the opera- 
tive effects of which in certain organs were too palpable 
to be disputed, we certainly might look forward to a new 
era in that branch of physic to which insanities belong. 
The mode of operation would soon be known. An organ 
of the brain is under similar laws of vitality to other 
organs of the body. There is a constant supply and a 
constant waste — a constantly renewing process: circula- 
tion, deposition, secretion, absorption, are events un- 
interruptedly kept up. Instead of producing bile, or 
gastric juice, or saliva, it is instrumental in the produc- 
tion of mental action and emotion. It is therefore to be 
influenced by medicine, as a corrective or restorative, in 
the same manner as the organs for the secretion of bile 
or saliva ; but such restoratives are not known. We are 
not, withal, without hope of their being eventually 
found. Where moral causes are in operation, external 
discipline would be as much required as the administra- 
tion of physical remedies. Experience would likewise 
shew us, in all probability, that topical remedies may be 
effective, such as blisters and other applications directed 
to the seat whence the partial derangement of the mind 
proceeds. If any remedial process should happen to be, 
in course of time, successfully adopted on the principles 
of phrenology, of which there is some degree of pro- 
bability, no reasonable person would any longer contend 
against the truth and usefulness of this science. 



COLLOQUY VI. 115 



STEWART. 

Granting all that the phrenologist would wish me to 
believe, we hardly dare suspect that such discoveries in 
medicine will be made. The contiguity of the brain's 
organs, if such there are — the close proximity of the 
several parts — the intimate alliance between them — the 
uniformity of the whole mass, scarcely leave us room to 
suppose that one medicine in particular would act upon 
one minute division, and another medicine on another 
division. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

On the possibility of such discoveries being made I 
can offer nothing more than a conjectural theory ; but 
that an organ, however intimately interwoven it may be 
with others, may be affected without those contiguous to 
it being operated upon in the same way, is indisputable. 
The nerves of sensation and motion run in the same 
sheath: they are affected differently, but it is mechanical 
only. We know of no medicine that will affect one in 
particular. The various systems of vessels, circulating, 
exhaling, secreting, and absorbing, are all intimately 
blended together, while each may be specifically influ- 
enced without the other being affected, or participating 
in a sensible degree in the effect wrought upon it. If 
there are different organs in the brain, each manifesting 
a different function, we suppose, as a matter of neces- 
sity, the economy of each to be different, and conse- 
quently liable to be affected differently. We perceive 
no essential difference, it is true, nor do we any between 
the nerve of motion and that of feeling. Experience 
teaches us that they have diversified functions, and 



116 COLLOQUY VI. 

reason points at the probability of their being different 
in structure*. 



* There is sometimes reason in madness. A poor maniac 
in Bedlam, on being questioned, ill-naturedly and tauntingly, 
why he was there, replied, " Because God has deprived me of 
a blessing which you never enjoyed." This was in the daily 
papers of the first year of this century. 



( 117) 



COLLOQUY VII. 



STEWART. 



You say there is an organ of acquisitiveness, situated 
a little in front of the ear in a line with the angle of the 
eyebrow. Phrenology offers to the world but little 
advantage in this respect; for we need not know that a 
certain part of the head is full or large, to know that the 
faculty exists. A coveting propensity — a desire to acquire 
and accumulate whatsoever may be regarded as property 
in the common acceptation of the term, is not only the 
ruling feature of this faculty, but of the world, and more 
particularly the civilized portion of it. The love of ease, 
of refinement, of voluptuousness in its great variety of 
characters, must, of course, make a great demand upon 
that source which is alone capable of supplying it. This 
partakes of every thing that relates to property. If we 
have not riches, we have not the means wherewith to 
obtain the much-desired objects which administer to our 
pleasures, forbidden or not. We love money, in general, 
in so far as it is able to satisfy our wants, which may be, 
and commonly are, of the most extravagant kind. This 
extravagance in our desires produces that rivalry between 
families and societies . for pre-eminence, and all that 
ostentatiousness in persons who are not able to bear the 
expences which it incurs. 



118 COLLOQUY VII. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

There must be something radically wrong in the 
mind, for such a bias to prevail. If a value were not set 
upon money which neither reason nor religion can war- 
rant or approve, this desire of vain-glory would scarcely 
take possession of the world. We may love gorgeousness 
and splendour for their own sakes, for there is an innate 
faculty of the mind which delights in sublimity ; but 
were the affections pure, and the intellect wise, they 
would not be used to pamper to our lusts, and to excite 
that great degree of rivalry in the human breast which 
they so powerfully do. This rivalry, this wish to attain 
whatever is great in a worldly point of view, proceeds, of 
course, from pride and vanity. Money is required that 
it may minister to the ambitious and unruly longings of 
these faculties ; when man is humble, the love of money 
usually escapes him. He sees its use consists only in 
supplying whatsoever is necessary to satisfy our rational 
wants — that it cannot purchase wisdom nor piety. If he 
seek for worldly power and grandeur, and be subject to 
all the torments of an envious heart — for love of this kind 
of power and grandeur is sure to inspire both rivalry and 
envy — he must look for money. 

STEWART. 

By looking on money above its real and intrinsic 
value, an evil is entailed upon man to which we scarce dare 
assign any limits ; and if evil, then unhappiness, for a 
covetous desire can never purchase felicity. The use of 
property being overrated, of which pride is doubtless 
both the remote and essential cause, contributes in no 
inconsiderable degree to the ruin of a people. What- 



COLLOQUY VII. 119 

soever money could provide, was with avidity sought 
after by the eastern nations in early days. They sought 
only for luxury, voluptuousness, gorgeousness, and 
power. They attained these things ; and no sooner had 
they attained them, which they did almost to satiety, 
than spoliation and ruin spread forth their blighting 
wings, and swept all their overreachings from the face 
of the earth. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I have, Sir, always looked upon it as a sign of the - 
most corrupt state of society, when the importance, and 
consequence, and intrinsic worth of a man is measured 
by the wealth he possesses. A man may possess nothing 
in common with his fellow-creatures in rank, in wisdom, 
or in any grace that really dignifies his species ; he may 
be low in birth, and low in education, and low in prin- 
ciple, and without genius, and yet if he has money, and 
can live in splendour, he finds a passport to the highest 
circles. Whatever betokens riches is a sure avenue to the 
heart of man. Wherever there is a stream running to a 
golden land — it matters little what impurities flow in the 
under current — on that man will embark. The con- 
ciliating airs of the needy man to the rich, without 
respect to virtue or rank, as though wealth conferred all 
that was noble, is another evil in society which ought to 
be borne down. The pleasure experienced by the opu- 
lent in these tokens of reverence and courtesy is gratify- 
ing to the vanity ; and the means which furnish such a 
source of homage, thus pleasing, are in consequence the 
more noticed. I say nothing of the degradation and 
littleness attending this supercilious homage ; for the 
thing, to every mind elevated by sentiment and wisdom, 
speaks for itself. The indigent person, whose circum- 



120 COLLOQUY VII. 

stances are not exactly known, may be on the most 
friendly footing with a wealthy man ; but the moment 
those circumstances are known, the doors of that man's 
house are, as it were, rudely closed against him. If 
received at all, it is with contemptuous effrontery, which 
is a source of annoyance to every high-minded individual, 
and one of contempt to the wise and virtuous. Well 
might a Roman satirist observe, " that poverty brings 
with it nothing harder for men to endure than the con- 
tempt to which it renders them subject." In that man's 
heart and affections the poor man's foot has no longer a 
resting-place; because it cannot find security where 
poverty is scouted as a crime, and too odious to bear. 
But who would hope to walk where there was no good 
and solid foundation ? Who wishes to build his friend- 
ships on a hill from whence they may be blown by the 
first breath that announces poverty ? Who is mean 
enough, or unwise enough, to seek for the society of him 
who has no idol which he so fervently worships as money, 
and who is ready to throw aside all intercourse with that 
portion of the community who have none of the honour 
to confer which wealth confers ? I regret to have it in 
my power to affirm that the world teems with such cha- 
racters. Experience urges me to say, that obsequious- 
ness and superciliousness of the most grovelling nature, 
are conspicuous features in the history of man : religion 
seems the only corrective. 

STEWART. 

But I have often observed religious men as over- 
reaching for this world's good as other men. Their pro- 
fessions of righteousness, their active philanthropy, their 
great patriotism, and, to all appearances, their virtue, 



COLLOQUY VII. 121 

are evidences of their piety; while the desire of their 
lives to prefer and honour the rich, and to heap up 
riches, is so manifest, as to leave no doubt that money is 
with them a God, whom to invoke is pleasure, and whom 
to possess is gain. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

Between motive and action, Sir, there is often an 
essential difference, a wide barrier, an awful gulf. The 
motives only of men are looked upon by the all-seeing 
eye ; and if it be desirable to reach the motives, and see 
by what the actions of man are incited, phrenology affords 
us that advantage. Who is acquainted with the heart of 
man, and discovers no duplicity, no speciousness, no want 
of correspondence and concordance between motive and 
action ? We have to question the motives of those men 
who assume the garb of religion, preserving a kind of 
consistency in their deportment by acting as though 
they were incited by holy desires, while they worship, 
with an idolatrous heart, the God of wealth — which is the 
Mammon of unrighteousness. Enough of this affected 
religion is observable in mankind to sicken the very 
heart. It is disgraceful to those who exercise it, and is 
more injurious to the Christian cause than it is possible 
for man to predicate. The desire of gain is selfishness, 
and selfishness is opposed to benevolence — one of the 
chief qualities of a Christian mind. Sou they has justly 
observed, that " men are benevolent when they are not 
selfish : but while gain is the great object of pursuit, 
selfishness must ever be the uppermost feeling. I cannot 
dissemble from myself," he further adds, « that it is 
the principle of our social system, and that it is awfully 
opposed to the spirit of Christianity." 



122 COLLOQUY VII. 



STEWART. 

It is, Sir, quite true that nothing less than religion can 
act as an incentive to good and disinterested actions. I 
think that every action of man having the semblance of 
benevolence and virtue, is of questionable purity when 
the mind is so alienated from the Author of all good, 
as to find pleasure only in this world's possessions. Let 
me not be misunderstood. I have long been in the con- 
stant exercise of charity in all its forms, but I am not 
ignorant of the sources of corruption ; and that is a poor 
philosophy, a mockery of charity, which commends 
actions that bear the appearance of honesty without 
having any pretensions to it. The ostentatious gifts of 
the public to charitable institutions, whose trumpets shall 
echo forth the name of the donor to every house, perhaps 
to distant lands, while the slightest pittance is withheld 
from deserving and obscure objects, who have no oppor- 
tunity to announce publicly the relief that might be 
afforded them, shew how little man is guided in such 
disbursements of his wealth by purely benevolent inten- 
tions. " He who is charitable from ostentation, will 
never relieve distress in secret/' Such gifts may do good 
to the institutions for whose benefit they may be meant, 
but none to the giver. Here good may come out of evil ; 
but it is perhaps rather physical than moral. I doubt 
much whether the event arising from so selfish a source 
can be productive of any Christian benefit. I question if 
the kingdom of God is enlarged by it. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I am not satisfied with a man's actions till I know 
the promptings whence they spring. To this informa- 



COLLOQUY VII. 123 

tion nothing can so truly assist me as phrenology, or 
religion, or a great and long course of intimacy. If a 
man have a good development, though destitute of reli- 
gion, his motives will be purer than the motives of him 
who has a degrading or bad development. If he has 
religion, his motives, however impure by nature, will 
bear the complexion of honour and honesty. The action 
will be dictated by the motive — a religious one. Both 
will be virtuous. Close intimacy soon leads a wise man 
to the secret chambers of the heart. A studied course 
of deception, a course of life marked with all the art of 
an intriguing intellect, by the semblance of virtue, may 
act as a successful cheat for a longer period, but it seldom 
serves to blind the sagacious for any great length of time. 
Man cannot always cheat himself, or act a part which is 
contrary to his nature. There are periods of life when 
the innermost feelings will burst forth into light, and to 
these periods the intimate associate is introduced. There 
is no mistaking for ever an artful or dishonest man for 
the reverse of himself, when opportunities occur to see 
him in all those vicissitudes of life to which he is exposed 
by his intercourse with the world. The propensity to 
acquire wealth, to seek the society of the rich, is less 
marked, perhaps, than most other mean desires. It is 
deemed an honour to be wealthy, and there can, under 
such a circumstance, be no degradation in allying your- 
self to that in which wealth consists or rests. In these 
strictures, however, let me be supposed to allude only to 
the abuse of the faculty of acquisitiveness. The pro- 
pensity to acquire is, when kept within due bounds, 
honourable and proper. It is an instinct implanted in 
our nature. It helps us to food and to raiment, essential 
requisites. It defends us against want. It provides for 
the contingencies which would press upon us in seasons 



124 COLLOQUY VII. 

of dearth ; for it impels animals to lay up provisions for 
times when none could be procured. So far as money- 
may be necessary to provide against want — so far, too, as 
it may be useful in furnishing means to defend our nation 
against the obtrusive operations and hostile menaces 
of another, it is commendable to give exercise to this 
faculty. 

STEWART. 

But do you not think that man may love property for 
its own sake — I mean independently of the power and 
splendour which it may yield ? We see the miser accu- 
mulating wealth, hoarding up riches without enjoying 
them, or even making any use or ostentatious display of 
them, carefully excluding, at the same time, from the 
public every idea of his being otherwise than an indigent 
person. What motive, think you, can prompt such a 
man ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This disposition in man is akin to madness. We 
cannot fancy a rational being worshipping an idol which 
yields no gratification, save the advantage, or privilege, 
or opportunity afforded him of looking upon it. Money 
out of use, and never intended to be made useful — for 
some misers never see a probability of their stores being 
exhausted, nor even, perhaps, so much as lessened in their 
time — is dependent on a disordered state of the faculty of 
acquisitiveness. It exists to excess, without a generous 
impulse actuating it. Most misers, however, have power 
in view. It is pleasing to know that you can be power- 
ful, and courted, and luxurious ; that you can enjoy all 
or any of the indulgences which money can supply, 
though, by some strange fatality, you do not think fit to 



COLLOQUY VII. 125 

embrace the privileges it is able to confer. Some dread 
the possibility of want, which is a delusion when riches 
are in abundance, and inexhaustible in the life of their 
possessor with the limited calls made upon them, were 
he to live hundreds of years. Another looks forward to 
the possibility of enriching his posterity — of being the 
founder of an opulent family, and which may, through 
the channel of wealth, be conducted to rank and dignity. 
Whatever motive, however, actuates the human breast in 
acquiring a superabundance of wealth, unless it is meant 
to serve good and benevolent purposes, such as is conso- 
nant with Scripture, there is an evil of boundless extent 
for which the possessor has to answer. 

STEWART. 
As your object is moral improvement, to lessen the 
moral degeneracy and delinquencies of worldly men, we 
must not leave this prince of passions — this monster, 
without more fully exposing its speciousness, its hideous- 
ness, and its deformity. The Scriptures speak of it as 
the most prominent vice. It might have been the first- 
born of sins. Milton refers to it in these lines — 

" the least erected spirit that fell 
" From Heaven : for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts 
" Were always downward bent ; admiring more 
" The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
" Than aught divine or holy else, engaged 
" In vision beatific." 

You have spoken of the uses of money — the necessity 
of its obtainment, which you have limited ; but you 
have forgotten that riches may be desired or coveted 
for the benefit they may confer in a benevolent point of 
view. There can be no sinfulness in the desire or pos- 
session of riches, so long as the object of the coveter and 



126 COLLOQUY VII. 

possessor is to make a right application of them. If that 
object be selfish, it is at once an evil : if it be devoted 
to advancing the world in righteousness, in contributing 
to the relief of the distressed, in washing away the 
engrained stain of infidelity which is now polluting 
Adam's posterity, and in erasing the word sin, which is 
written in legible letters on every heart, be it in what- 
soever characters it may, then it becomes a virtue of 
noble birth. In this application of acquisitiveness we 
perceive a more noble purpose and design than when 
it is confined chiefly to such an use as may be neces- 
sary to our subsistence, or in warding off the rapacious 
and hostile incursions of a foreign power. It is a mistake 
to condemn riches as riches. It is the concomitant evil, 
the inordinate desire manifesting itself in all forms of 
selfishness, that we should reprobate. Seeing the weak- 
ness of man, his liability to apply them to some unwise 
purposes, they are not to be desired. Man knows that 
to wealth belongs power ; he knows that it may purchase 
every species of sensual gratification — every thing save 
talents and virtue, the two things least desired in a general 
point of view. The great evil is the power which wealth 
is made to carry with it : this is an evil belonging more 
particularly to the conventional forms of society. If the 
worldly advantages of wealth were less, the abuses would 
be diminished. Religion and virtue, however, must be 
held at a much higher price before the current value of 
this commodity, money, is reduced to its proper level. 
At present the idol of the world is selfishness ; and in 
proportion as the most successful form of worshipping it 
is through the glitter of gold, so in proportion does 
Mammon take the place of godliness — vice, of piety. You 
cannot worship both God and Mammon. This idol is 
clothed in " purple and fine linen," in a garb bespangled 



COLLOQUY VII. 127 

with every form of cupidity; and the only thing that quali- 
fies you to approach it, or gives you access to all the privi- 
leges which an acquaintance with it confers, is money or 
property. To render that idol less attractive, to strip it 
of its alluring garments, lust must yield to probity, 
pride to humility. This false god must be broken 
down, and in its place erected the banner of the Creator, 
which nothing less than self-denial, and the other graces 
of Christianity, in which avarice takes no part, can be 
made to bear. Its removal depends entirely on the ad- 
vance of practical virtue. This is the only radical remedy ; 
and, as an example, let me exhort you always to bear in 
mind that you have a graduated measure in covetousness, 
whereby you may measure the piety of man. If it be 
full, it is only to the exclusion of a better grain, which 
might have grown up, and yielded a rich and perpetual 
harvest. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The projects of a covetous man may be unlimited 
while money is the avenue to so many species of vice. 
There is no estimating the extent of the contemplated 
evil he may have in view; for the very propensity is a root 
wherefrom may spring branches burdened with the 
fruitage of sin, in every possible shape. There are two 
actual forms of this propensity which we cannot mistake 
— one is the inclination to acquire, the other to hoard. 
The former need not necessarily be an evil, according to 
your own shewing : the latter must be. A man may 
acquire for godly purposes. It is, however, seldom so ; 
as his chief object in acquiring, without any desire to 
keep or hoard, is to pamper some dominant passion 
which cannot be gratified without the acquisition in 
question. See the numerous passions of man, the variety 



128 COLLOQUY VII. 

of feelings which crave indulgence in an inordinate 
degree, and then see how diversified may be the objects 
of the individual seeking that lucre, by which such in- 
dulgence can be bought. In this case the faculty of 
acquisitiveness is made the slave of other propensities, in 
their lavish abuses. And in this mode of operation 
there may be comparatively less real indulgence afforded 
to the faculty itself, than where the exclusive bent is to 
keep as well as get. The desire to acquire, for the pur- 
pose of administering to some selfish passion — some pro- 
digal, and ostentatious, and worldly project, is the greater 
evil of the two, as it is more openly and practically sinful. 
I recollect a gentleman requesting my opinion in re- 
gard to the extent of his acquisitiveness. A phrenologist 
had told him it was great : he felt persuaded, he said, it 
was not. I corroborated the opinion of the phrenologist. 
This did not satisfy my visitor, but induced him to 
affect a still greater abhorrence of the science than he 
before entertained. He alleged with some warmth, and 
evident disappointment, that thus far phrenology, in 
which he was inclined to believe, was defective and erro- 
neous. He went on to say that no man gave more un- 
sparingly than himself — that he disregarded money for 
its own sake — that, in fact, he had no desire to keep what 
he possessed, or to withhold what by industry he might 
have acquired. — " Of what use, Sir, allow me to ask, do 
you make of such talents? for recollect they were 
entrusted to you for high purposes. You may be lavish 
in your expenditure, distribute with a careless hand, but 
have you no selfish desire in view? If those contri- 
butions are not made with an intention to promote some 
good end, an end in which cupidity, in no form, takes a 
part, then, Sir, I am entitled, upon the authority of both 
Scripture and reason, to declare that the covetous pro- 



COLLOQUY VII. 129 

pensity is dominant in you. It is not necessary you should 
be a miser, in order that you may be a lover of money. 
You are, perhaps, most indefatigable in pursuit of gain ; 
you leave no stone unturned if, under it, there may, per- 
adventure, be found something in the shape of property. 
You see no beauty in what you discover in itself, but 
you look to the gratification it may furnish ; you love it 
not for its sake, but only for the ends it will provide. 
You are wise enough to know that money would be as 
useless as a clod of dirt, if it would not purchase some- 
thing in the attainment of which you might experience 
delight. There is no merit in being free from the pro- 
pensity to hoard what you never intend to make useful, 
and about the application of which you take no concern. 
Such a disposition treads closely on the heels of insanity. 
It is not attributable to capriciousness, but a truly dis- 
ordered state of the mind." — " I cannot," my visitor 
replied, " disprove the propriety of your argument, and 
I am unprepared to defend myself against its force as 
applicable to my case. If I mistake not, the light in 
which you have viewed my character, upon the presump- 
tive evidence afforded you by the conformation of my 
brain, is the light in which I really stand. I thought 
that the true test of an abused faculty of acquisitiveness 
was the desire to accumulate, to obtain riches, that grati- 
fication may arise from the possession of them, inde- 
pendently of the uses to which they may be applied. So 
far I was wrong in my conjecture respecting the functions 
of this faculty." — My visitor left with a more favour- 
able notion of phrenology, persuaded that if covetousness 
consisted in what I declared, he possessed it. The 
propensity to hoard is of rare occurrence. When it 
does exist, the epithet miser is very applicable. The 
propensity is truly a miserable one, bringing unhappiness 



130 COLLOQUY VII. 

to the individual in whom it thus prevails. The par- 
simonious and avaricious man is a pitiful and degraded 
being. The prodigal, who spends his substance rashly, 
deserves no greater commiseration. 

STEWART. 

Covetousness — which is a prohibited use of that 
faculty in man which the Deity has implanted in his 
nature for wise purposes — is part and parcel of all 
nations. Irrespective of the good which may result 
from riches, man holds it as a crime if they cannot be 
commanded ; and as this kind of estimation is general, 
and as most men are anxious to avoid the imputation of 
being thus criminal, the love of money, without regard 
to use, is rendered universal : but sad is the condition of 
him upon whom the portals of the grave have closed, 
without the load of iniquity attached to this species of 
guilt being repented of. Riches are great, and, if not 
rightly applied, dangerous possessions. Man holds them 
by sufferance only : they are a loan entrusted to him for 
a specific purpose, and high is the rate of interest which 
the borrower is expected to pay. The goddess of fortune 
of the heathen world, on being congratulated on the gifts 
she bestowed on mortal man, has been made to say, " I 
give not — 7* lend at great interest." At the same time, she 
is said to have " dipped the flowers and fruits she held in 
one hand into a cup of poison which she held in another." 
This is truly emblematic of the evil of riches ; significant 
of the fact which experience attests, that they are not un- 
mixed with deleterious and destructive properties. " It 
is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, 
than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven;" 
in other words, for thus it may be interpreted, it is 
impossible for man who possesses and distributes only to 



COLLOQUY VII. 131 

administer to his selfish cravings, to see the kingdom of 
God. How much more did the widow, with her mite, 
cast into the treasury, than the rich of their abundance ! 
In charitable disbursements the Deity looks to the motive 
and the means — to the high bearing of the former — to 
the extent of the latter. The Saviour saw the pre- 
valence of covetousness in man, and one object of his 
ministry was to expose it, and hold it up to censure ; 
he, however, reprobated not the acquisition of wealth, but 
the inordinate love which accompanied it — not the pos- 
session, but its abuse. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is evident, I think, that parsimony in pecuniary 
matters is less prevalent than a prodigal use of money. 
The present rules of society render it incumbent on every 
man to appear hospitable, whatever may be his real feel- 
ings. The greater evil is to be feared from lavish expen- 
ditures ; because, in that case, the larger the expenditure 
is, the greater is the amount of evil it entails. I am now 
speaking, of course, of the misapplication of the means. 
It were more desirable and less criminal to withhold 
them, than that they should be made to purchase all 
kinds of sensuality at the risk of morality, of virtue, of 
losing heaven. Parsimony is, perhaps, more general than 
outward appearances would lead us to suspect. To some 
men money is as precious as their blood. They part with 
it With as little willingness and grace : they think nothing 
is dearer. To ask them for money is to ask for their 
life. < < Without my god/' we hear him ask, " whom 
should I invoke for happiness ? and without happiness, 
in whatsoever it may be concentred, what is life V This 
is the argument of a niggardly disposition, a lover of this 
k 2 



132 COLLOQUY VII. 

world's goods. A parsimonious man must be avaricious, 
or he would give or distribute more freely ; if he did not 
wish to keep what he possessed, why should he be sparing 
of its distribution ? " He may not be a dead sea, ever 
receiving, and never imparting; but yet he may be as 
unlike the Nile when, overflowing its banks, it leaves a 
rich deposit on the neighbouring lands." 

STEWART. 
If the propensity of acquisitiveness be as active as 
any other — its abuse drawing with it a degree of felicity 
such as is palatable to man in his sensual career — how 
much of that kind of happiness must that person lose 
who is not in a situation to gratify the various appetites 
which the power to acquire and spend affords? The 
indigent man, without power to enrich himself, endures 
great privations ; his thirst may be great, and he has not 
the means to quench or allay it : but wretched is the 
state of a people when we discover that the more ample 
those means become, the more insatiable is the thirst — 
the more frequently it is appeased, the stronger it grows. 
This thirst assumes various forms; its inclinations are 
capricious without losing any of their violence. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Theft is the result of covetousness. It arises from a 
too active state of the propensity. Whenever the love of 
money is dominant, it is to be feared dishonesty in pecu- 
niary dealings will prevail. It may not be flagrantly 
palpable ; but with a capricious and avaricious mind, in 
which there can be no active check in the way of morality, 
what reason have we to suspect that dishonesty will not 
insidiously creep into our commercial and other dealings ? 
Where is the man, greedy of lucre, who can take a 



COLLOQUY VII. 133 

retrospective view of his actions and thoughts, and say 
he is free from the stain of fraud ? Is not every advan- 
tage taken of the inexperienced, the wealthy, the dis- 
solute ? To enumerate all the forms in which fraud 
may and does enter into our dealings would be impos- 
sible. Let such a man put the commandment, " Thou 
shalt not steal," in every supposable shape in which Pro- 
vidence would have us view it, and he will there see 
himself a thief, stripped of those outer garments by which 
he had concealed his designs from the world. The 
greedy man must be irreligious ; and if irreligious, what 
security have we against his imposition ? I fear to enter 
upon a topic in which no greater abuse exists in our 
social and business intercourses than in the over-grasping 
and over-craving systems which are, as by common con- 
sent, now adopted between man and man. When shall 
dishonesty cease while rapacity and avarice are constantly 
on the wing ? When the organ of the faculty of acqui- 
sitiveness is full and large, and the moral organs are 
small, and the subject is not under the all-powerful and 
subduing influences of religion, I feel persuaded we may 
reckon upon the abuses to which it is liable, being pro- 
minent in that individual. My own observation con- 
ducts me to this inference. In a man who had this 
world's possessions in abundance, there would be less 
inducement for him to desire or defraud : to him, too, 
who had been carefully taught to ward against the pre- 
vailing vice of covetousness, or rather of that more active 
form of it, " theft/' the admonition may prove a useful 
warning. These things, in conjunction with the strict- 
ness of legislative enactments to protect property, curb, 
if not the inclination, at least the actual commission of 
the crime. To shew the dominion of the covetous desire, 
let every restriction, legal, social, and moral with respect 



134 



COLLOQUY VII. 



to it, be removed, and then see with what demoniacal 
fury this monster, covetousness, would rage. 

STEWART. 

True. It is a fearful thing to contemplate the extent 
of rapacity that would then be manifest. But, Sir, there 
is one paramount evil in our educational system with 
regard to the coveting propensity. Children are taught 
carefully enough not to steal, in the ordinary acceptation 
of the term ; but little is said of the diversified shapes 
in which this sad propensity may appear — little of the 
powerful dominion it exercises. The whole picture, 
with its various colourings, should be laid open to the 
gaze of the youthful eye, and the evil designs executed 
by the skilful artist, animadverted upon. It is a common 
system, indeed, to make riches appear as dews which it 
is necessary for the budding mind to imbibe ere it 
can come forth in those colours which alone are made 
dazzling and attractive to the world. What greater care 
need be taken than this, to open all those avenues of the 
stful which lead to the evils referred to ? What more 
effectual method can we adopt to give gold an attractive 
glitter, than to shew that the world's goods depend 
upon it ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

There is one radical and insufferable evil which I 
would not fail to notice in the conduct of some purse- 
proud individuals : it is the insolence which they often 
use towards the indigent. It has been justly observed 
that " Meanness is a medal whose reverse is insolence." 
In some countries tame elephants are suffered to roam 
at large, and, from their begging propensity, apt to beg 
from house to house. A species of retaliation adopted 



COLLOQUY VII. 135 

by one of these sagacious animals on being insulted 
instead of relieved, is applicable to the subject in debate. 
The window of a tailor's shop being open, the elephant 
put in his trunk for some food. One of the men 
scratched the trunk with a needle, instead of complying 
with the wishes of the poor brute. The elephant passed 
on as though nothing had occurred; but being determined 
to avenge the insult, he went to a brook, filled his trunk 
with water, which we all know holds a large quantity, 
returned to the tailors, and sent the contents among them. 
To shew a pride of heart on account of wealth, is both 
weakness and insolence; and when that insolence is 
avowedly declared, it is sure to meet with that contempt 
or retaliation it so richly deserves. The humblest indi- 
vidual is often capable of making the haughtiness and 
insolence of the purse-proud a sport and a mockery. The 
English have the character of being the most money- 
loving people of any nation existing. If it be not so in 
reality, it is so in appearance ; for our extensive commer- 
cial dealings, wherein money or capital is so essentially 
involved, make us, as it were, dealers in this commodity ; 
and in proportion to the avidity for commerce, so is the 
appetite for money. The rebuke of Buonaparte, who 
called us a nation of shopkeepers, is an indirect attack 
upon our national covetousness. The French indeed are 
very severe upon the English for the godlike manner 
in which they worship wealth : and some of the French 
authors have cast a reproach upon us, which, in all its 
severity, is too true. 

" Let the greatest villain 
" That ever trod the earth's extended bound' ry, 
" That e'er disgraced the nature of a man, 
u Pass into England, and, if he has money, 
" He'll find a welcome." 



136 COLLOQUY VII. 

Virtue stands, if not the object of scorn, at least as a nega- 
tive quality, if it be not tinselled with the trappings 
of gold. Respectability is another name for meanness, 
when attended by poverty. The moroseness and reserved- 
ness of the English nation are chiefly dependent on the 
calculative habitude of the national mind. Always eager 
for gain, it must be always planning, and experiencing 
the bitterness of every disappointment which, in the 
excess of its appetite for lucre, it must be constantly en- 
countering. When shall this fiendish propensity be sub- 
dued? When will a nation, powerful in constitution, 
superior in religious advantages, and elevated in intellect, 
throw off a mantle which so disfigures it, and institute 
an antidote to check the virulent effects of so dangerous 
a poison ? But " riches, that magnificent idol," says 
Barrow, " hath a temple in almost every house, and an 
altar in almost every heart." 

STEWART. 

There is another feature in the English character 
worth notice, and one that has, though indirectly, an im- 
moral effect. With a curiosity proportioned only to the 
respect paid to wealth, the Englishman asks, when he 
wishes to gain some knowledge of a stranger, who and 
what he is ? — which is, by common interpretation, meant 
to allude not to his qualities as a man of virtue, but to 
his station in life, and more frequently to the length of 
his purse. Here virtue, the only badge of true honour, 
the only immortal quality when placed by the side of 
birth and wealth, is lost sight of in the eagerness to ascer- 
tain whether distinctions more worldly and secular exist. 
How long shall riches be placed in competition with god- 
liness, and find a throne where the nobler quality shall 
only find a footstool ? Shall all ideas of virtuous wisdom 



COLLOQUY VII. 137 

be for ever banished from the eyes of man, in order to 
make room for a lust so prolific and so pernicious ? If 
the opulent man did but consider how large a portion of 
the homage paid to him was in consequence of his pos- 
sessions, and not of any excellencies in himself, he might 
indeed feel how degraded his courtiers were in intellect, 
how mean his own nature, when his gold was reckoned 
more estimable and honourable than himself. No greater 
insult can be offered to a man than to be courted for his 
riches ; and when we consider how few are sought for 
their own qualifications, for their own private and unob- 
trusive virtues, how seldom shall a man dare flatter him- 
self with the illusive idea of his being the object of esteem 
and regard ? The only test of friendship is poverty ; and 
how many who are willing to proffer their tokens of 
cordiality in the day of prosperity, shall be now found 
to desert you ? This desertion shews the moral depravity 
of the human heart — its alienation from every principle 
of rectitude. If you wish to measure the sincerity of an 
acquaintance, called a friend, become poor, and in propor- 
tion as that sincerity waxes cold in consequence, you have 
at once an insight into the sordidness of his nature — the 
meanness and unchristian tone of his character. The 
man who deserts you because you are become indigent, is 
not less to be despised than your calumniator. It is an 
insult to your feelings, and a test of your having been the 
dupe of an impostor, who stole from you, under the 
assumed garb of friendship, that which you might have 
more reasonably bestowed on a deserving object. How 
severe soever this stricture may be considered, it will be 
found true ; and if true, one that deserves deep consider- 
ation. Birth and wealth are honourable only in a relative 
point of view. A mere name, a bit of gold, have no in- 
trinsic value in themselves ; and can never, with the man 



138 COLLOQUY VII. 

of piety and wisdom, be objects of paramount interest. If 
he, who bears a noble name, be not of a noble nature, he 
degrades his title ; and he who possesses riches without 
putting them out to interest in God's service, is in a situ- 
ation which the meanest beggar need not envy. He puts 
one in mind of a person passing by the way-side, and 
seeing a fellow-creature fallen into a ditch, maimed and 
helpless, yet refuses to lend assistance. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

Some of our greatest philosophers and poets have had 
a decided aversion to mercantile men, on account of their 
avarice. Among them we may mention Johnson, Burke, 
and the incomparable Chatterton. Burke's dislike was 
carried to a great excess. He thought merchant and 
thief synonymous terms. His antipathy to trades of all 
kinds was equal to that of the ancient Romans. In one of 
his parliament speeches he is known to have said, — " Do 
not talk to me of the liberality and patriotism of a mer- 
chant : his god is his gold — his country his invoice — his 
desk his altar — his ledger his bible — his church his 
exchange— and he has faith in none but his banker." He 
never could separate the idea of commerce from that of 
exclusion, monopoly, and avarice. He saw that these 
men had it greatly in their power to benefit society by 
the vastness of their possessions; but he also saw that they 
were backward in using them to the extent they were 
desired. It has been observed, " if beneficence be not in 
a person's will, what imports it to mankind that it is in his 
power ? And yet we see how much more regard is gene- 
rally paid to a worthless man of fortune, than to the 
most benevolent beggar that ever uttered one ineffectual 
blessing. This is also agreeable to Mr. Burke's thesis — . 



COLLOQUY VII. 139 

that the formidable idea of power affects more deeply than 
the most beautiful idea that can be conceived of moral 
virtue/' The plodding industry of the money-getting 
man is often taken as a virtue ; but how often shall we 
not be able to trace it to that love of power which 
riches bring ? Some satirist has remarked, in allusion to 
this matter, that " worth means wealth, and wisdom the 
art of acquiring ;" and truly may it be often said that 
industry means avarice, and avarice theft. "What is 
the industry/' says the immortal Cowper, in a letter to 
his friend Rowley, " of half the industrious men in the 
world but avarice ;" and again, tc if you ask where they 
are to be placed who acquire much wealth in an honest 
way — you must be so good as to find them first, and then 
I'll answer the question/' This remark is very severe ; 
yet if we probe the hearts of those who acquire, by 
labour, large possessions, selfishness and dishonesty of 
purpose in some way or another will generally be detected. 
The love of property is a very desirable propensity when 
confined to a proper sphere. It is an instinctive appetite, 
and intended for the highest purposes ; but it is instinct- 
ively prone to abuse. At a very early period of life, it 
has been observed whatever the hand grasps, is per- 
tinaciously retained ; and that to arrest from an infant of 
six months the toy or bauble that it holds, would excite 
its most angry feelings and attendant tears. This early 
desire of possession, and obstinate resistance to its sur- 
render, form a strongly-marked feature in the human 
character — this lust of appropriation is never extin- 
guished : when inordinate, it constitutes theft and rapine 
for the acquirement, and the sordid practice of hoard- 
ing, with its consequent denial of all the decent com- 
forts and gratification of life for its retention ; and as 
we advance in age, at which season our moral sensibilities 



140 COLLOQUY VII. 

become blunted, the passion of avarice augments — 

" Like our shadows, 
" Our wishes lengthen as our sun declines," 

and the milder charities of our nature recede before that 
flagrant cupidity which the Roman poet has happily 
termed the " Amor sceleratus habendi." 

Chatterton, in alluding to the mercenary Bristolians, 

says — 

" Notions which disgrace 
" The boasted reason of the human race, 
" Bristol may keep her prudent maxims still— 
" I scorn her prudence, and I ever will. ,, 

The " London/' of Johnson, a satirical poem, and his 
" Vanity of Human Wishes/' present fair specimens of 
the ideas he entertained of wealth being conceived more 
honourable than virtue, as they respectively stand in rela- 
tion to the distorted eye of man. Through his other 
works are scattered various sentiments on this subject, 
with many strictures on so great a perversion of the 
moral and intellectual nature of mankind. The avaricious 
man is too often looked upon as a sagacious man. It is a 
pity that the criminality of avarice is not understood, 
when we should be the better able to see the barrier which 
divides it from wisdom. 

STEWART. 

Riches are not to be desired when we consider the 
power they exercise in warping the best affections of man. 
They form a fungus, from whence issues a deadly and 
rank poison on their being made the vehicle of licentious- 
ness and luxury, instead of administering to the claims of 
charity. Let not the ostentatious flatter himself that his 
donations purchase for him a reward in heaven. His gifts 
may comfort him here in administering to his vanity, but 



COLLOQUY VII. 141 

they become a greater condemnation in future.—" Let not 
your right hand know what your left hand doeth," is a 
scriptural admonition, if not a positive command, to avoid 
giving but under purely disinterested and charitable 
motives. But to wave the evils attendant on covetous- 
ness, are you persuaded there is an innate faculty in man, 
giving him the desire to acquire ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This desire is a common principle of our nature, as I 
just now intimated. It is universal in the savage as well 
as the civilized man — in the infant as well as the adult it 
is dominant. From the time of Adam, the mind has 
sought for possessions — lands, cattle, and, in later periods, 
all kinds of merchandise, gold, and silver. I confess that 
the possession of property beyond what would content a 
savage, is necessary to afford such advantages as spring 
from civilized life. In this case, the propensity to covet 
more than what may be necessary to the existence and 
gratification of a savage, is required. Spurzheim, seeing 
the desire to acquire, or a coveting propensity in man as 
a natural element of his constitution, called it the faculty 
of covetousness. This was afterwards altered by Sir 
G. S. Mackenzie to "acquisitiveness;" a much more 
appropriate term to convey a proper idea of the economy 
of this propensity. Whatever propensity is necessary to 
man, and hence universally present in the human family, 
must be innate. Unabused, it proves a blessing — an 
exciter of most of the faculties which belong to man. 

STEWART. 

That there is a coveting desire in man no one can 
doubt; but is it instinctive ? Might it not proceed from 



142 COLLOQUY VII. 

a combination of circumstances unconnected with instinct 
of this nature? Our condition in life points out the 
necessity of supplies being made to satisfy the demands 
of appetite and other contingencies concerned with life, 
civilized or savage. Reason may discover this, and suggest 
a plan, meanwhile, for their provision. A proposition 
has been made to the effect that the desire of wealth, or 
the possession of property in any form, depends entirely 
on the capriciousness of the mind, it being required or 
sought after so far only as it may be wanted to administer 
to some feeling, such, for instance, as benevolence on one 
side, and vanity on another. I have known it said that 
an amiable mind wishes for power, that it may be able to 
bring into action its gratitude and liberality. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Reason has power to direct the distribution of what- 
ever might be acquired and possessed. It may even so 
act upon the faculty as to stimulate it to exertion ; 
but there is an instinctive appetite giving desire for the 
thing itself. In brutes this appetite is manifested with- 
out reason. In idiots, who look not forward to contin- 
gencies, whose reason, such at least as may exist, is 
entirely subservient to feeling, it is a hoarding propen- 
sity, and an appetite for property. They collect even 
what is not valuable, and have no idea of the value of 
what they do collect. In those persons who enjoy money 
for its own sake, a passion exists wherein neither reason, 
nor benevolence, nor any other faculty seems to have had 
the least influence. Its chief object is to obtain what- 
soever relates to property, without regard to the uses or 
distributions to be made of it. How much soever, then, 
the appetite may be prompted by other feelings, certain 
it is an instinctive feeling exists which gives an appetite 



COLLOQUY VII. 143 

for property, so far as it may be necessary to supply our 
absolute wants. Beyond this impulse I pretend not to 
say how much the desire of acquisition depends on the 
influence of other faculties. The attainment of riches is 
certainly rendered pleasant, and more vehement in pro- 
portion to the number of appetites we have to gratify : 
in this case it is greatly subservient to other feelings. A 
great activity of this passion produces dishonesty, if the 
moral feelings are low, and there exist no honest means 
or a desire to pursue those means by which it can be 
gratified. But the strength of the passion is also regulated 
according to the size and constitution of its organ. Its 
abuses are great in proportion. This is an established fact, 
of which hundreds of proofs may be brought forward. 



( 144) 



COLLOQUY VIIL 



The County of Devon is proverbially known for the 
salubrity of its air, and the variety of its scenery. The 
pasture-like glens of the south, very highly fertilized, and 
bending their way to some magnificent river, are well 
contrasted with the bold and barren high lands of the 
north. In one extremity, nature has been most prodigal 
in giving abundant and luxuriant vegetation; in the 
other, sparing and comparatively unkind. These observa- 
tions refer rather to the general features of the two 
divisions of the county, as they each present isolated 
spots of barrenness and fruitfulness. For variety and 
beauty we must seek the south ; and if we wish for 
extensive views, nowhere to be had in the north, we 
must visit the heights of Dartmoor and Haldon. From 
hence the grandest of English scenery is to be seen. 
Some part of the latter mountainous tract was said, by 
George the Fourth, to command the most extensive and 
varied prospect in his dominions. The south of Devon 
has considerable advantage over the north, particularly 
from the succession of beautiful rivers to be met with 
along its coast. The Exe, the Teign, the Dart, and the 
Tamar, are too well known, or too often heard of, to need 
description. The Dart, from its serpentine course, and 
high banks covered with luxuriant foliage, and presenting 



COLLOQUY VIII. 145 

besides, here and there, in the most picturesque spots, a 
romantic village, or a noble mansion, gives us some of the 
most delightful and perfect ideas of river scenery. In one 
part of its course, at the ihouth of a little rivulet, rapid 
because of the abruptness of its descent, may be seen 
growing to great perfection, amidst apple-trees, and at 
the door- way of a fisherman's cottage, that most interest- 
ing of all trees, the weeping willow. This tree, which 
is a native of the Levant, excites in us the most pensive 
reflections, as we remember the lamentations of the Jewish 
captives in a strange land — the bewailings of the daughters 
of Israel under the Babylonish captivity — " By the rivers 
of Babylon there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we 
remembered Zion ; we hanged our harps upon the willows 
in the midst of them." How truly beautiful and 
pathetic is this and the rest of the lamentation of these 
Israelitish people, torn from that city which was their 
paradise, their Zion, their " chief joy I" and how truly 
emblematic of weeping and grief is this tree, as we asso- 
ciate it in our mind with the pensive complaint of Jeru- 
salem's children ! They that carried them captive required 
of them a song ; and they that wasted them required of 
them mirth, saying, <e Sing us one of the songs of Zion ;" 
but the poor captives ask, " How can we sing the Lord's 
song in a strange land ? " The whole psalm presents a 
picture, in all the colourings and lineaments of which we 
feel a lively interest ; it calls up our pity, and, meantime, 
a remembrance of the memorable event which had been 
predicted, and which ultimately befel the once splendid 
and far-famed city over which they wept. 

The introduction of this tree into England is attributed 
to one who excites in us a degree of interest almost equal 
to that which we feel for the daughters of Jerusalem, 
though of a somewhat different character. That person 



146 COLLOQUY VIII. 

is no less an individual than the immortal Pope, one of our 
most favourite of poets: — receiving a basket of figs from 
Turkey, he perceived that one of the twigs of which the 
basket was made was sprouting or budding ; he put it in 
the garden at Twickenham, and had the satisfaction and 
pleasure to witness its growth.* It grew luxuriantly, 
and in a spot consecrated by the never-dying fame which 
Pope gained there, and from its association with scenes 
and occurrences which are pleasing to remember — with 
persons and things with whom are connected some 
of the most interesting topics in the annals of British 
history. 

This tree, wherever situated, imparts a degree of 
interest to the scene ; not merely for the associations it 
carries with it, but for the elegance and grace of its form 
— the bending, reclined, weeping-like attitude of its 
branches. It is a frequent inhabitant of the churchyard, 
" placed over tombs ; and from its gracefully-drooping 
foliage, might almost be supposed to be weeping over the 
monument it decorates." We often see it on the banks of 
lakes, fish-ponds, and bubbling streams. The water's 
edge is, in fact, its most common site, " near some 
romantic foot-path bridge, which it half conceals; or 
some glassy pool over which it hangs its streaming foliage, 

And dips 
Its pendant boughs, stooping as if to drink." 

This is exactly the appearance of the tree at the mouth 
of the small stream which pours its contents into the 

* Of the introduction of this tree, another account has been 
given. It is said to have been " introduced at the commence- 
ment of the last century by Mr. Vernon, a Turkey Merchant, 
who brought it with him from the banks of the Euphrates, and 
planted it at his seat in Twickenham Park.' 7 — Saturday Mag, 



! 



COLLOQUY VIII. 147 

River Dart, and at a spot particularly well calculated to 
estrange the mind of man from the world, and direct it 
to God, or at least to give him a notion of the happiness 
and contentment which might be made to reign in the 
hearts of the humble cottagers, over whose rude but clean 
habitation the willow bends its beautiful branches. Those 
who prefer the vortex of society, the din of the ball-room, 
and the adulation of the world, prefer it rather from 
ignorance of the sweet repose afforded to the conscience in 
retirement. The passions of envy and ostentation which 
sit enthroned in every heart, seeking its pleasures in the 
world, are here slumbering and superseded by feelings 
which awaken love and admiration. It is yet proper we 
should not all seek the same paths of enjoyment. If all 
sought the romantic glen, or the fertilized plain, or the 
river's bank, the world would stand still. Akenside has 
truly said — 

" With wise intent, 
" The hand of Nature on peculiar minds 
" Imprints a different bias." 

Not far from the situation of this spot, rendered 
beautiful and picturesque by the luxuriant willow, the 
rippling and rapid stream, and the fisherman's cottage 
close to the water's edge in front, and backed by a 
beautifully wooded hill, stand three mansions, remarkable 
for the excellence of their respective situations, and the 
fine and lovely prospects they command. One belongs to 
the family of Bastard, called Sharpham ; the other to 
that of Studcly, called Watton Court, where there is a 
room of carved oak, executed in the year 1130; and the 
other, belonging to no person of distinction, is called 
Maisonnette. The latter mansion will long be recollected 
by some persons for having been the residence of a certain 
L 2 



148 COLLOQUY VIII. 

Admiral, whom the late King, when Duke of Clarence, 
visited, and where he met with a lady, fair and beautiful, 
to whom it is said he made proposals, which were not 
accepted. This mansion and its surrounding scenery 
have afforded me some of the happiest hours to be found 
in a short life. In the habit of visiting the house during 
the time it was inhabited by a recent occupier, but who 
yet, to my sorrow, held it for a very limited period, I had 
an opportunity of enjoying the neighbouring beauties at 
sunrise, at sunset, at every period of the day under a 
summer's sky. Hither may one wander in quest of 
beauties 

- that exalt the soul to solemn thought 



11 And heavenly musing,' ' 

until the eye tires with the perpetual feast it experiences, 
looking for a drearier land, or some less majestic and lovely 
scene, for the sake of a momentary relief. Diversity in 
scenery, as in every thing else, is desirable. We have no 
wish to live in a land where there is a perpetual bloom, 
and every thing is constantly emitting a beautiful fra- 
grance. The mind, as at present constituted, looks for 
variety, and can find satisfaction only in changes and 
un evennesses. Where there is alternate weakness and 
strength, the mind is less sooner surfeited, and better 
able to trace by comparison all the lineaments by which 
that strength is put forth. Whatever is noble would 
cease to interest, if nothing but nobility were before us. 
Things are great and beautiful only by comparison ; and 
if there were nothing to compare, the idea of greatness 
and beauty would cease to exist, and the mind be left 
destitute of one of the most essential auxiliaries of its 
happiness. It is thus with poets and poetry. The 
alternate luxuriance and barrenness of Dryden's verse 



COLLOQUY VIII. 149 

keep up an interest in the mind of the reader, while the 
perpetual sweetness, the constant harmony, the unvaried 
beauty, ease, and sound of Pope's tire and cloy. Yet, be 
Nature what she may, she is capable of directing us to her 
great Author, and giving to the mind that peace which it 
fails to gain from other sources. 

u Happy he, 
11 Whom what he views of beautiful, or grand 
" In nature, from the broad majestic oak 
" To the green blade that twinkles in the sun, 
" Prompt with remembrance of a present God." 

Cowper. 

Maisonnette is situated midway on the Dart's bank 
between Totness and Dartmouth, about four miles from 
Paington, and six from Torquay, now a watering place of 
great celebrity as a winter residence. The situation of 
Torquay is admirable. It stands chiefly on the face of a 
hill, which gradually slopes to the sea, commanding a 
southern aspect. It is now a place of considerable size, 
having been much frequented within the last few years. 
The houses are commodious, and so arranged as to com- 
mand a prospect which presents some feature either of 
sublimity or beauty. The villas and grounds in the 
immediate neighbourhood are tastefully built and laid 
out, but usually small, and more or less delightfully 
situated. Torquay derives great advantage, in the way 
of scenery, from its beautiful Bay, in which Buonaparte 
was shortly anchored before his departure to St. Helena. 
It forms an almost complete semicircle ; villages and 
towns here and there appear on its banks to give variety 
to the scene, and it is terminated by bold and abrupt 
headlands. The neighbourhood of Torquay is of a 
romantic character ; that of Maisonnette — with its little 
village adjoining, called Stoke Gabriel, the inhabitants 



150 COLLOQUY VIII. 

in the rudest simplicity — of the pastoral. The morn 
brings in the low of the cattle,, the crowing of the cock, 
the whistle of the ploughman, the song of the milkmaid. 
The gladsomeness of rural life is every where heard, and 
every where seen, answering well to Gray's description — 

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, 

The swallow twittering from her straw -built shed, 

The cock's shrill clarion, and the echoing horn. 

The simplicity of the people in this village is most 
strongly marked ; but they are happy. Virgil has said in 
his Georgics, in the latter part of the Second Book, 

O fortunatos nimium, sua si bona n6rint 
Agricolas ! 

O happy, if he knew his happy state, 
The swain ! 

Their intercourse with strangers is very trifling, being 
situated several miles from towns of any note. They are 
hence superstitious, and believe in many ghost- stories, 
which the remoteness of a place, and the ignorance of a 
rural people, have a tendency to favour and invent. The 
great house, as it is called (Maisonnette), is haunted, and 
the most frightful shrieks, and evident noises of super- 
natural birth, are heard by the villagers, who, afraid to 
proceed alone to the house when uninhabited, have con- 
gregated together to hear, if not to see, the cries of some 
earth-born victim returned to the spot whence its blood 
had been spilt, or its heart broken, by some merciless and 
unrelenting murderer. But the spirit seldom deigns to 
make his presence known to more than one person at a 
time. It is then, especially, that the bells ring, the 
piercing lamentations — such as those of a dying victim in 
the last struggles of a horrid death — are heard, that rum- 
blings and rackets, as though the whole interior of the 



COLLOQUY VIII. 151 

house was in a commotion, are perceptible, or that the 
wretched spirit is ever seen, walking to some sequestered 
spot in groves and yards, then vanishing altogether from 
the sight. It is, perhaps, difficult to imagine the extent 
of credulity to which the minds of an ignorant and rural 
population are subject. Their fears have only to be 
excited, to make them believe in any thing. Imagination 
will supply the place of reality, and the senses them- 
selves will be carried along in the deception, till they see 
or hear whatever fancy suggests. But superstition is of no 
particular age nor country. tc When," says the Mirror, 
" we behold the Romans, wise and great as they were, 
regulating their conduct, in the most important affairs, by 
the accidental flight of birds ; or, when threatened by 
some national calamity, creating a Dictator for the sole 
purpose of driving a nail into a door, in order to avert 
the impending judgment of Heaven, we are apt, accord- 
ing to the humour we are in, to smile at the folly, or to 
lament the weakness of human nature. The modern 
citizen of Rome, who thinks he can appease an offended 
Deity by creeping on his knees up the steps of St. Peter's 
so many times a day ; or the pious Neapolitan, who 
imagines that carrying forth the relics of St. Januarius 
is sufficient to stop an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, are 
equally objects of pity with the good Roman who 
devoutly assisted at driving the nail into the temple of 
Jupiter Capitolinus. These things are more ridiculous 
than the belief in apparitions, which are sometimes so 
strongly impressed on the imagination as to have a 
lasting and beneficial effect. A young woman, in the 
service of a clergyman, told me she had seen an angelic 
spirit bending over the body of her master while in the 
attitude of prayer. She fell down senseless at the sight, 
and afterwards declared with such a vehemence and posi- 



152 COLLOQUY VIII. 

tiveness that she saw this supernatural agent, as to leave 
no doubt in the mind of the strength of the delusion 
under which she laboured. The fact of her being so 
alarmed as to faint, of her leaving her service immedi- 
ately, and of her becoming soon afterwards a religious 
character in consequence, for the truth of which I can 
vouch, are evidences of the imagination having created 
such a being, of her vision being made a willing agent in 
the deception, and of the impression on her mind being 
strong and lasting. She had heard, perhaps, of ministering 
spirits — of their watching over men in prayer and sup- 
plication ; she had in all probability been dwelling upon 
something of a marvellous nature, and, sitting alone at 
night, might have had her apprehensions excited and 
terrified, and thence made susceptible of delusion, which 
was brought into action by the sight of her master in the act 
of prayer, as she passed the door of the room in which he 
sat. Fear is the grand concocter of those delusive 
appearances which are susceptible to the unenlightened 
understanding. Indeed most, if not all, of the marvel- 
lous stories about visions among the higher circles may 
be traced to fear: even those rapid conversions from 
profligacy to a religious life, imputed to the appearance 
of some supernatural phenomenon, may be ascribed to a 
conscience awakened by the sense of guilt, and to the 
state of the body, and peculiarity of the situation or 
season at the time it took place. Fear had peopled this 
delightful mansion with one or more spirits; and fear 
even prevented its being readily let. At last it found a 
tenant who feared not the ghost, and, what was remark- 
able, after the testimony of a whole crowd of witnesses, 
never so much as heard or saw it. Rats there were in 
abundance, which were kind enough to ring the bells 
when the servants had just seated themselves comfortably 



COLLOQUY VIII. 153 

at supper, and too fond of fighting and gamboling about 
the mouldering walls, hollow enough to give echo to the 
noises they made. But whatever might be the incon- 
veniences arising from a residence at this mansion — how 
great soever the number of hobgoblins, and the remote- 
ness of the situation in which it stands might be, the 
occupier will be amply repaid in the endurance of them 
by the magnificent and -lovely scenes that surround him. 
The front of the house commands an extensive view of 
the Dart in its serpentine course, and in the distance, on 
the opposite side, the little and rural village of Dittisham, 
which is surrounded by a hilly country most beautifully 
cultivated, and laid or mapped out in parcels, which are 
severally bounded by hedges. The luxuriance of the 
oak, gradually sloping down from the high ground to the 
water, is particularly fine about that part of the river in 
the locality of Maisonnette and Sharpham. Near one of 
these pendant woods, rises, abruptly from the water's 
edge, a rock of large dimensions, grown hoary by age, and 
overhung by the rich green branches of some trees encir- 
cling it. No part of the river is more picturesque than 
this. What it gains in magnificence as it proceeds to the 
mouth, it loses in beauty. But it can scarcely be said to 
lose its beauty, and to be superseded entirely by that 
loftier quality, grandeur, at any spot. Its tortuous 
course, presenting at every bend some new scene, some 
diversified prospect, yet never meeting with tameness, 
renders it one of the most attractive of English rivers. 
From an elevated portion of the grounds, on which 
stands a summer-house, the river is seen to great effect ; 
and a large inlet or lake of water opposite, forming a kind 
of arm to the river, grouped with the neighbouring 
scenery which is finely undulated, gives additional interest 
to this lovely spot. The view at high-water and sunset, 



154 COLLOQUY VIII. 

when there is alternate light and shade, and when the 
beams of the setting sun are reflected from the glassy, 
watery surface of those parts to which they are admitted 
by the defiles of land running to the west, is the most 
beautiful of any we gather in the course of the day. This 
summer-house is reached by a circuitous pathway, ren- 
dered dark by the thick foliage that overhangs it as far 
as the summit of the hill. No sooner does the dark 
leafy way terminate, than a splendid prospect of water 
and land, finely undulated and cultivated, breaks upon 
the eye. We gaze — we admire. The variety of the 
scene seems as if Nature were struggling to shew herself 
to the best advantage, in a space of limited extent ; for 
the prospect is but a parterre. It is not that the scene 
surpasses, or even equals others either in sublimity or 
beauty, but that it is perfect of its character, and that 
character is peculiar. We cannot say with the poet, for 
it kindles no feeling of awe, 

" Welcome, kindred glooms ! 
" Congenial horrors, hail !" 

It is a mixture of beauties, with a shade of grandeur to 
heighten their effect. This height and its little summer- 
house, which are so situated as to command a view in 
every direction, have attracted me ofttimes in the day, 
and called forth some of my profoundest meditations. 

" Wisdom's self 
" Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude ; 
" Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, 
" She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings." 

But it was at eve that I most admired the spot, and that 
every thing calculated to tranquillize the mind stole upon 
my thoughts. It is not unpropitious to those flights of 
fancy in which poets indulge ; nor need ghosts slumber, 



COLLOQUY Fill. 155 

if credulity could aid the imagination in the creation of 
any thing that partakes of the marvellous. We have 
seen that credulity has proved itself so potent a deity as 
to supply the locality with a ghost — or, rather, the repre- 
sentative of some unhappy spirit, yet writhing under 
pangs caused by an unfeeling monster. The belief, if 
any such existence prevailed, how rude soever the popu- 
lation may be of those who harbour it, will yet trespass 
itself upon more enlightened minds occasionally : nor is 
he who is the least inclined to superstition, at all times 
able to resist the encroachments of ideas which have 
something like fiction and delusion for their basis. The 
contemplative mind, brought to a habit of philosophizing, 
is naturally forced into thoughts at periods which have 
an unreal as well as real character — thoughts occupied in 
improbabilities, and indulging in chimeras. To that man 
who gives himself up to such meditations, nature appears 
ten times more wonderful, and often kindles such enthu- 
siasm, as to carry the mind into regions which have less of 
nature, and more that is ideal. The imagination once on 
the wing, wanders through illimitable space, touching 
worlds on its way of its own creation, till, by chance, it 
alights on one of the grossest superstition. If we nar- 
rowly trace the progress of some of our most ideal 
authors, we shall find them going from the most to the 
least probable of things, and catching at whatever is 
irrational, to give colour, variety, and life to their delinea- 
tions. Reflecting, we see so much of the marvellous in 
Nature, in God, in Scripture, that we occasionally feel 
that whatever mind may suggest, is possibly true. We 
not only think 

" What worlds, or what vast regions, hold 
" Th' immortal mind ;" 

but we desire to know how they are peopled, and what are 



156 COLLOQUY VIII. 

the privileges of their inhabitants. We are carried on 
from one link to another, one merely less probable than 
the other, till at last the possibility of our surmises being 
true, gathers strength, and thus are we easily led into the 
the snare of superstition. The reality of ghosts is ques- 
tioned, and reasonably so ; there is yet only a great pro- 
bability against it. The matter does not admit of demon- 
stration. We have no direct authority for believing it is 
not so, though we have none to prove that it is. The 
proofs that are said to be afforded, are, in truth, no proofs. 
The vividness of the imagination, aided by the fear of 
that which is the object of its attention, is, at all times, 
able to account for any supernatural creations without 
the subsistence of any thing real ; and so long as we can 
find a cause in the mind, so long are we at liberty to 
doubt the reality of the effect. But it is said there is no 
rule without exception ; and why, I ask, may I not take 
advantage of that exception ? Is it because ghosts are 
the most improbable of all appearances, that one should 
not make himself visible ? If we cannot admit a haunt- 
ing spirit, may we not admit a rational and comforting 
one ? Be our admissible faculties what they may, I am 
too nearly allied for the present to one, to discard the 
notion of such phenomena being impossible, or of spirits 
being invisible to the sight of man. To-morrow I may 
think differently; but now it answers my purpose to 
think, not as my reason, but as my scheme impels me — 
not as ray imagination suggests, but as my wish and pur- 
poses incline. Still, invisible spirits are most probably 
inhabitants of the earth. Socrates has taught us to 
doubt nothing invisible. " Every instrument," he says, 
" employed by Heaven is invisible. The thunder is 
darted from on high ; it dashes in pieces every thing it 
meets, but no one can see it fall — can see it strike — can 



COLLOQUY VIII. 157 

see it return. The winds are invisible, though we see 
well the ravages they every day commit, and feel their 
influence the moment they begin to blow. If there be 
any thing in man that partakes of the Divine nature, it is 
his soul : there can be no doubt that this is his directing, 
governing principle ; nevertheless it is impossible to see 
it. From all this be instructed not to despise things 
invisible; be instructed to acknowledge their powers in 
their effects; and to honour the Deity." — Socrates, seeing 
the influence of invisible agency, was led to these reflec- 
tions; and it were not difficult for such a man, philosopher 
as he was in morals, to embody those effects in some 
being which should appear visible. The Agent who gives 
direction and power to the storm and tempest, may pos- 
sibly, for the sake of some purpose connected with his 
government, make invisible things visible. What, how- 
ever, the Deity does not think fit to do, will, in imagina- 
tion, be done by man ; and thus we may make a Sir 
Thomas More, or a Dugald Stewart, in whose invisible 
existence we cannot, dare not doubt, appear in a tangible 
form of our own creation, and bring them down to earth 
to propound their own or our ideas. It is yet natural to 
suppose they like scenes which approach nearest in beauty 
and grandeur to their particular sphere, and that they 
should meet with persons who are best fitted to exchange 
thoughts with them. But seeing the subtilty of the 
human mind, and their as yet limited power to divine 
and fathom its movements, the selection they make for 
companions during their periodical sojourns in the land 
they have for a permanency left, may not, perchance, be 
one of the fittest and most desirable. Whether they are 
or are not capable of being deceived in this respect, it is 
scarcely possible to suspect them lying under any decep- 
tion in the realm which belongs more especially to beings 



158 COLLOQUY VIII. 

of their order. Deceived they may possibly be — deceivers 
they cannot be. They are immaculate in thought, but 
not all-powerful in intellect. Such were the thoughts 
that trespassed themselves upon me as I visited the plea- 
sure-grounds of Maisonnette on which the summer-house 
is stationed ; and I had scarcely roused myself from my 
contemplative mood to take one more glance at the adja- 
cent prospect of hill, dale, water, waving fields of corn, 
and beautiful woods, now dimly seen through the har- 
bingers of night, than I beheld, moving gently from the 
bower leading to the mansion, a figure which at first was 
of doubtful appearance, but which grew more familiar to 
rne as it approached : it was my most welcome of friends, 
Stewart. — i( Sir," I cried, with mingled feelings of plea- 
sure, agitation, and surprise, " your presence is confined 
to no particular spot ; you " 

STEWART. 

The north, south, east, and west, are alike to us. 
Wherever we can kindle joy, and aid the promulgation of 
truth, there we are. But we are not omnipotent, uni- 
versal. When with you, I am nowhere else; and my 
long absence is to be imputed to my having had other 
missions of importance to bear. Dealers in superstition 
may give a spirit credit for having a power to make his 
presence more general ; but his authority is confined. 
Infidels, however, seldom allow him any liberty or 
authority ; this because they do not believe, and yet, sin- 
gular enough, they are some of the most superstitious 
of the earth. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

In illustration of this a remarkable fact is just pre- 
sented to me. It is in the recollection of some persons 



COLLOQUY VIII. 159 

that, in the year 1804, a lady of beauty, youth, and 
fortune, Mrs. Lee, was carried away by force from her 
house in London by two gentlemen named Gordon, one 
of whom was a clergyman. She had been separated from 
her husband some time. A trial ensued at Oxford ; in 
the course of which it was acknowledged, by the lady 
herself, that on her road from London to Oxford, she 
drew from her bosom a camphor bag and locket, and 
threw them away, exclaiming meanwhile, " The charm 
is dissolved. This has preserved my virtue hitherto, but 
now welcome pleasure V — This lady was a great sceptic 
in religious matters, making a boast of her philosophy. 

STEWART. 

Yes; her philosophical understanding had taught her 
to regret what true philosophy approves — to despise what 
it is wisdom to believe and love. Mark the bigotry of 
her superstition. She gave a power to a piece of camphor 
and a locket — it were perhaps of gold — which she had 
not faith to believe could be possessed by religion. Man 
is most industrious in fabricating something that will 
answer the purpose of religion. The superstition of this 
lady puts us in mind of the " ablutions of the Gentoos, 
the pilgrimages of the Mahometans, the severe fasts 
observed in the Greek Church," and a whole host of other 
follies. The world is not satisfied with the rule of con- 
duct formed for its guidance by an infinite Being, but it 
must have one of its own, which is liable to continual 
perversion, error, and interruption. Here is a case in 
point. The virtue of this superstitious woman was 
propped up by a charm which remained inviolate just so 
long as no tempter advanced to dissolve it. The means 
by which such a notion is maintained, as that any thing, 
save religion, has virtue enough to ward off danger, is 
delusive ; it proceeds from the grossest ignorance, and a 



160 COLLOQUY VIII. 

heart ready to bend to any inclination into which by 
accident it may be led. There is no morality in super- 
stition of any kind ; but, on the contrary, most flagitious 
iniquity when a creature, of imaginary virtues, is set up 
to do what religion cannot. The antagonist of vice is 
virtue ; and virtue proceeds, not from any idle fancy or 
loose imagination, but from moral impressions, having 
their rise in God. We need something more than the 
inspiration of the Sibyl to give a right bearing to minds — 
to preserve unsullied the tendency of our thoughts and 
desires. Her charm must have been of a frail texture, to 
be dissolved, and made immature and ineffective, by the 
idea of that very gratification against the seductive influ- 
ences of which it was supposed to render her safe, and 
preserve her immaculate. Frail indeed is every idea of 
virtue which springs from a selfish motive or principle ; 
wreck-like is that fancied security which has no higher 
safeguard than superstition —the grand pivot of the 
infidel, who would rather rest his faith and hope on any 
thing than the Bible and inspiration. " See," says Pascal, 
" the absurdity of mankind. Many men have believed 
in the miracles of Vespasian, who have appeared to give 
no credit to those of Jesus Christ." No persons are more 
credulous than such as avowedly reject Christianity. 
Her's was human philosophy, which is erring ; not that 
divine philosophy which Milton, in his Comus, calls 
charming — 

" Not harsh, and crabbed as dull fools suppose ; 
u But a perpetual feast of nectar' d sweets, 
" Where no crude surfeit reigns." 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

While the civilized part of tbe world is disposed to 
infidelity, we need scarcely wonder at the disease infect- 
ing barbarians and savages. Among these tribes we yet 



COLLOQUY VIII. 161 

often find evident traces of spiritual-mindedness. The 
History of the Island of Madagascar, by Flacourt, pre- 
sents us with a prayer used by the islanders, of so beau- 
tiful a description as to erase the impression for a 
moment of their being other than civilized to no uncom- 
mon extent. The prayer is as follows : — " O Eternal ! 
have mercy upon me, because I am passing away : — 
O Infinite ! because I am but a speck : — Most Mighty ! 
because I am weak : — Source of Life ! because I 
draw near to the grave : — Omnipotent ! because I am 
in darkness : — O All-bountiful ! because I am poor : — 
O All-sufficient ! because I am nothing." The contrasts in 
this prayer, between the attributes of God and the quali- 
ties of the supplicator, are of the most perfect character, 
and could not have been made by any other person than 
one conversant with the nature of Jehovah, and endowed 
with a considerable portion of intellect. There is a native 
impulse in man to good as well as evil. It is a pleasure 
and a profit to enquire into the former, but not into the 
latter. We know nothing of the origin of one, but we 
do of the other. God is the source of light, of love, of 
truth ; but what is the source of darkness, of hatred, 
and of deception ? We may place it in Lucifer and 
his tribe, the first who knew sin ; but then we are 
incited to enquire, how came it in them ? The subject 
is too mysterious for investigation; it amounts to evil 
even to enquire. 

STEWART. 

I doubt that. The enquiry is too apt to lead erring and 
finite reason ers into a species of speculative philosophy 
bordering on impiety. So far it is mischievous ; but in 
all research of this nature, it should be the object of 
every person to keep steadily in view one grand and 

M 



162 COLLOQUY VIII. 

undeviating principle — that God cannot be the author of 
evil. Reason is not, or ought not, to be made the sole 
distinguishing feature in man : there is a higher prin- 
ciple by which he is required to be actuated — this is 
religion, which will induce him to discard all convictions, 
founded on whatsoever course of reasoning they may be, 
engendering false notions of the Deity, who must be infi- 
nitely good. The enquiry is useless, perhaps ; but I see 
no reason why it should be sinful. ". Distinguished above 
other creatures," says an elegant writer of the last century, 
" by the faculty of reason, and the superiority of his 
nature, man is, notwithstanding, the slave of prejudice 
and opinion, prone to error, and subject to continual 
delusion. Truth and science advance by slow degrees. 
One age destroys the labours of another ; whilst conjec- 
ture and hypothesis supply the place of argument and 
demonstration. Nature performs her operations con- 
stantly before our eyes, and has furnished us with the 
means of tracing their causes and connections ; but the 
mind, debased by indolence, or bewildered by superstition, 
regards these astonishing scenes with indifference, and 
considers all attempts to investigate their causes as the 
effects of a presumptuous and daring impiety." If we 
once set up the principle, that it becomes sinful to trace 
the causes of the operations we daily witness in nature — 
and sin is one of these operations — we may go on till we 
see fallacy in every research, iniquity in every opinion. 
Whatever may be the tendency of such speculations, I 
see no error in man making himself acquainted with such 
human laws — and the tendency to sin is a law — as the 
extent of his knowledge, or the deepness of his research, 
will unfold. The condition of man is generally bene- 
fited by an acquisition of this kind. 



COLLOQUY VIII. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



163 



I certainly think that every new species of informa- 
tion respecting the constitution of nature, is an avenue 
to some derivable good; but it does not appear to me 
that the original cause or source of sin is in nature. 

STEWART. 

Then where shall we find it ? It is not in any part of 
the heavenly hierarchy. It must, then, either be in the 
earth, which is nature, or in hell, which is something 
below nature. It must be in man, or in Devil. It arose 
in the latter, but it is now become adopted into the 
family of the former ; and nature, supplied freely and 
constantly by the fountain, is become a stream of magni- 
tude, whence issues every evil thought, every corrupt 
inclination. Every bubble is a token of its agitation, 
every ripple of its continued circulation. You have 
drunk freely of the fountain, and Satan has done all that 
the subtil ty of his spirit could invent to disguise the 
waters, that they may drink sweet, and you be led on till 
the sweet turns to bitterness. In man himself you may 
find the source of all evil, which he possesses in common 
with the fallen angels. Look to the mind. Its actions 
teach you what the cause is, and where it is. Virtue 
does not live there as an ever-living ember. It is a mere 
occasional spark, surrounded by brighter lights which 
are continually burning, and those lights are sin. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

One cause of sin is our ignorance of the laws of 
nature ; and, therefore, one reason of virtue being shut 
out from us, is the want of knowledge. 
m 2 



164 COLLOQUY VIII. 



STEWART. 

If you knew more of nature's laws, you would un- 
questionably know more of God's government, and thence 
have less excuse for infringing its rules ; but I doubt much 
whether, as the phrenologists suppose, man would be 
materially benefited, religiously speaking, by the acqui- 
sition. He sins against the knowledge he already pos- 
sesses, and it is a pity he should have more to sin against. 
He is yet called upon to search, that it may redound to 
his good ; but it does not follow that he would make a 
proper use of the superior privileges in the way of know- 
ledge he might acquire ; and if not, he would be worse 
off' than he was before. One of the most radical causes 
of evil is passion exercised in all the violence of animal 
indulgence. Under this indulgence the higher senti- 
ments of the soul are kept in subjection. Appetite has 
gained an ascendency, and rules with despotic authority. 
The noblest energies of the mind, which are placed over 
instinctive lusts to controul and moderate their inclina- 
tions, are no longer appealed to as monitors, or trusted to 
as guardians. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Yet our passions are as much the sources of happiness 
and virtue as they are of misery and sin. This opinion 
is not only phrenological but Malthusian, and will stand 
the test of the most rigid scrutiny. Passions, or instinc- 
tive appetites, are necessary to man : they are inherent 
elements of the mind, and given, as Warburton has justly 
remarked, " to excite our activity in the pursuit of good." 
So far as they are inherent, they were created ; and, being 
created, must be good in nature. Whatever perversion 



COLLOQUY VIII. 165 

they are liable to, is the effect of over-indulgence. Adam, 
in his unspotted days, possessed every instinctive feeling 
that we do, only not to excess. A reasonable use of our 
feelings and passions, that is, such an use as God has 
assigned, carries with it no criminality. Their possession 
is an evidence of our Creator's kindness to us, instru- 
mental as they are to our earthly felicities. Sweep away 
their excesses and abuses, and we leave man as spot- 
less, as stainless as Adam was in his original nature, 
and yet deprive him of no one instinctive appetite which 
may be necessary either to his preservation or happiness. 
Passion is a virtue when kept within due bounds— a 
noble and essential feature in man, useful in animating 
the mind to deeds of valour, honour, and virtue. The 
rules of phrenology certainly throw light on this matter. 
The subject at least has elicited observations which bear 
with marked effect upon it ; yet some of those observa- 
tions may be drawn from sources independent of 
phrenology. 

STEWART. 

Doubtless they may. If you will tell me what infer- 
ences may not be deduced from common observation, 
reasoning, and experience, in matters apart from your 
science, that phrenology may be supposed to possess the 
exclusive liberty of deducing, it will afford information 
with which at present I am unacquainted. The tenden- 
cies of mind, the motives of action, which the phrenolo- 
gist thinks he can divine or predicate better than most 
men, may certainly be understood without the help of 
your system ; and as it is upon this predication that the 
chief usefulness of phrenology is made to rest, how short 
of exclusive excellence does it fall in this respect ? You, 
the great friend of Chatterton, do not forget the perti- 



166 COLLOQUY VIII. 

nent and satirical lines he addresses to one of his friends, 
who is by the poet considered to have embraced new but 
wrong views of an old doctrine. 

" When you advance new systems, first unfold 

" The various imperfections of the old ; 

" Prove nature hitherto a gloomy night — 

" You the first focus of primeval light. 

" 'Tis not enough you think your system true; 

" The busy world would have you prove it too : 

" Then, rising on the ruins of the rest, 

" Plainly demonstrate your ideas best. 

" Many are best ; one only can be right, 

11 Tho' all had inspiration to indite. ' ' 

These lines apply with singular force, not only to the 
reverend gentleman to whom he wrote, but to the 
phrenologist. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

They do. But we must not forget that what Chat- 
terton advises Catcott to do, has been performed by the 
phrenologist. It is manifest, as I have already in part 
shewn, that the imperfections of the old system of phi- 
losophizing about mind are numerous — that they are now 
like the fragments of a mouldering castle, which is 
deserted for some newer and better building. The crusts 
of antiquity remain, but they are only emblems of a tot- 
tering and worn-out fabric, never to be revived. It 
was a grand principle with Bacon, that no just theory of 
nature can be formed without observation and experiment. 
These are our great auxiliaries. If so, where is the 
rationality of that system which is not erected on pre- 
mises like these ? If observation and experiment are the 
great beacons of truth, how comes it that your schoolmen 
■*— those, at least, with whom you once co-operated — should 



COLLOQUY VIII. 167 

have assumed^ and not without considerable dogmatism, 
that they, without either of these means, have attained 
truth ? Shall they, groping in the dark, find more than he 
who makes his researches as Bacon would direct, under 
more favourable auspices — the light of observation ? On 
this subject I have already dwelt sufficiently long. It mat- 
ters little to what our observations may lead, so that they 
lead to truth, so that they correspond with nature. Our 
first object in science is to prove that we have not 
strayed from Nature, or said more than strictly applies to 
her ; and our second is, to shew how far our researches, 
our investigations, our discoveries, can be made useful 
and profitable. I believe phrenologists have done much 
for the first, and but little for the last. The utility of 
the science to any great extent is questionable, further 
than the necessity of knowing the economy of nature, 
which is always capable of exciting our admiration of the 
Deity, and drawing us closer to the thing most needful 
to our happiness and prosperity. We see no very practical 
utility in Geology and Astronomy, other than in this 
manner. So far as they relate to matters which concern 
nature, pointing out the mechanism of the heavens, and 
the structure and revolutions of the earth, they are 
interesting and useful. But they will not point out any 
new code of morals, open to our view a better system of 
education, give us greater facilities of procuring food, or 
furnish us with remedies that will prevent disease, or 
improve the social condition of man. 

STEWART. 

It appears, then, that you at last accede to my general 
proposition, that phrenology, whether true or false as 
far as its principles extend, is capable of no great degree 
of usefulness. 



168 COLLOQUY VIII. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

In part only. If it be desirable to fathom motive, 
amidst the deception which so universally prevails in 
man, phrenology offers itself as a great assistance. If 
even it should be found necessary to know how far the 
evil impulses of the mind are kept at bay by, or sub- 
servient to, religious impressions, phrenology affords us 
that knowledge. I can record a curious instance of this 
fact : — A Colonel in the East India Company's service, 
with whom I had no acquaintance till the previous even- 
ing, and of whom I had heard nothing save some general 
observations on his great benevolence and rigidly religious 
life, presented himself to me one morning, anxious that I 
should examine his head. I refused at first, upon the score 
of my inability, professing to understand nothing more 
than the theoretical part of the science, and not wishing, 
in fact, to engage in the practical part. He was too im- 
portunate, however, in his solicitations, for me to persist 
in my refusal without being pointedly rude. As an 
apology for his importunate manner, he said, " I have a 
son in Edinburgh, whose vices and irregularities of life are 
great, and who pleads excuse for his habitual indulgences, 
on the ground of his being so organized as to render it 
impossible for him to abandon his pursuits. He has 
been/' he went on to say, " to a phrenologist, who tells 
him that he has certain propensities powerfully developed 
— propensities exactly corresponding with those which he 
has many years been in the habit of indulging ; and now 
I am desirous of knowing, by having a practical examina- 
tion made of my own head, whether there is any probable 
truth in the boy's statement. Your ipse dixit about the 
probability I shall not be satisfied with. I must have 



COLLOQUY VIII. 169 

the experiment." — On this I consented to do my best 
towards giving him satisfaction as to the truth of phre- 
nology. The intellectual region I found well developed, 
the moral region comparatively small, the region of the 
propensities unusually large. It was altogether a very 
decided or marked conformation. Those of Approbation, 
Destructiveness, Firmness, and Amativeness were the 
fullest developed of the animal passions ; and they were so 
large as to leave no question in my mind that he had been 
actuated all through life in particular by these feelings. 
My first general observation was something to this effect : 
— ee Sir, had I not been told you were a religious man, I 
would not have believed it from your conformation ; but 
your head only confirms the truth of one position I have 
long maintained, and this is, that the organization has 
little to do with the influences of Divine grace. I doubt 
not the sincerity of your heart; your many good actions, 
your religious zeal, prove you to be honest ; and the war 
between your natural passions and your holier desires, 
which are, as it were, superadded to your nature, must 
have been a powerful contest. Your nature, through 
the all- conquering power of the Deity, has yielded ; and 
where pride trampled, there is now humility — where 
apathy existed towards the distressed, there are now sym- 
pathy and compassion; struggles for worldly honours 
are superseded by efforts to gain something more perma- 
nently glorious; envyings and revellings have passed 
away; and that proud obduracy which marked your 
original character — that love of distinction which animated 
you in war — that cruelty which you, without pain of con- 
science, committed — and that lust which you so incon- 
siderately indulged, have been brought in obedience to 
higher longings, and quelled in the vehemence of their 
tendencies." There is one thing in particular worthy of 



170 COLLOQUY VIII. 

notice in this case. The organ of Combativeness was un- 
commonly small ,* and I told the Colonel, an odd thing 
you will say to tell a soldier, that he had no courage. 
In regard to his courage, he said, " I have thrown myself 
into the heat of the battle when my limbs trembled with 
fear. The only thing that prompted me was love of 
glory ; but I always had the good fortune to conceal the 
cowardice of my nature. I was firm in my resolution to 
gain this ; but I had no firmness independent of it, to 
enable me to endure suffering, or encounter danger." He 
then told me of his amours, which were numerous and 
singular enough. The fickleness of his affections was 
too great, he said, to allow of any thing worthy the 
name of constancy, and his organ of Attachment was 
small ; but his determination to bring her a prey to his 
wishes whom he fancied, was such as could not well be 
withstood. " My affected heroism, my assumed cou- 
rage," he said, " would win for me many a heart; and 
when they failed, I was too indefatigable not to succeed." 
Such and many other particulars, amounting to fifteen dif- 
ferent points, all of which the Colonel declared to be cor- 
rect, were entered into concerning the character of this 
gentleman, who has since repented of the ostentation, the 
folly, and the pollution of his former life. He left me 
fully persuaded of the truth of phrenology ; nor was I the 
less inclined to think highly of the doctrine I advocated, 
so confirmative was the case before me of its validity. 
The Colonel asked for a pen and ink, wrote down all I 
had said, and promised to shew it to one person who 
knew him almost as well as he knew himself. Better he 
could not ; for that Divine light which shews forth the 
qualities of the natural man, had penetrated the Colonel's 
mind, and left him no room to question the strength and 
the multitude of his own infirmities. 



COLLOQUY VIII. 171 



STEWART. 



This case certainly appears to be a corroboration of 
the truth of your science ; and, backed by others equally 
so, would leave little room for any one to doubt its cor- 
rectness. But the propensities of both son and father, 
according as they did with the development of their 
brains, would lead to the conclusion that these pas- 
sions were planted in their nature, over which they 
appeared to have but little controul, as far, that is, as 
their own capabilities served them. This would, agree- 
ably to the notions of some persons, imply, that with 
such strong passions inherited by nature, they were not 
so responsible for their actions. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

What inference soever may be drawn, the fact is 
evident, that in proportion to the size of an organ, so is 
the strength of the faculty to which it ministers. That 
we may not charge Nature with any harsh dealings towards 
us, in giving us propensities particularly prone to abuse, 
I refer you to the article on Fatalism, in my Letters on 
Phrenology, as well as other parts of the book, where the 
subject is casually and cursorily touched upon. 

STEWART. 

I shall be anxious to resume the thread of our dis- 
course some future time. The subject will yet, perhaps, 
afford some stronger evidence than has already been 
adduced. The strongest proofs of the phrenological sys- 
tem having superseded the old system of mental phi- 
losophy, will be gathered from practical facts, against the 
force of which persons cannot, with consistency, shut their 
eyes. 



172 COLLOQUY VIII. 

With these words, on which particular emphasis was 
laid, the Professor glided away. I followed him to reply ; 
but his speed was such as to leave an impression of his 
being carried along by the wind, and he soon totally 
disappeared. His presence had illumined the spot where 
we stood ; for he was no sooner gone than I found myself 
in comparative darkness. 

" The star of eve was bright ;" 

but light I had not sufficient to find my way down the 
steep umbrageous road which led to the house — the 
haunted mansion 

" Of rude access, of prospect grand." 



( 173) 



COLLOQUY IX. 



STEWART. 



At our last interview you related a practical fact 
which bore forcibly upon the truth of your system. I 
then gave you to understand that evidence of this kind is 
such as will outweigh all other. Can the phrenological 
world supply a sufficiently large proportion of facts to 
satisfy an unprejudiced person of the truth, not merely of 
the principles, but of the details ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This is, indeed, a very pointed question. Whether 
all the details are correct we cannot say. Some of them 
are looked upon by the phrenologist himself as merely 
probable. The truth of the science would, in fact, suffer 
nothing from some degree of incorrectness in this respect. 
If a part of the whole be true — if a few organs, and the 
inferences they afford, be established, the rest being per- 
fectly false and inconsistent — the basis, the foundation is 
good, though the building be not complete. If some of 
the details be sound, and the whole, of which those 
details consist, will not constitute a perfect science, it is 
clear that the subject may yield others capable of making 
up a perfect whole. Phrenology is an intricate system, 



174 COLLOQUY IX. 

and its advocates would be more than human if they 
could build without some evidences of imperfection being 
traceable. Shall phrenology, in all its relative particulars, 
be supposed perfect, while every other science is imper- 
fect ? Astronomy has not yet arrived at its acme, nor 
has chemistry, nor has vital physiology — simply because 
all the phenomena of the heavens are not thoroughly 
comprehended, because all the elementary particles of 
matter, and the affinities between them are not known, 
and because the connexion between an organ and its first 
moving principle is not understood. We must not suffer 
opinions — opinions which it is evident no science, pure or 
mixed, can furnish or warrant — to prejudice us against 
that in whose cause they are propagated. Erroneous 
views are taken of Scripture and Sciences in general, and 
by their ablest supporters; yet none pretend to doubt 
either their authenticity or purity when divested of all 
the trammels which the finite mind, amid all its labours 
and anxiety to perfect, unavoidably entwines about them. 
Every scientific man, in whatever department he may 
move, occasionally makes errors, and applies the instru- 
ments placed in his hands injudiciously and erroneously : 
this does not prove, however, that the science he advo- 
cates is a baseless fabric, a mere fallacy. But they prove 
either one of two things, that he is not sufficiently 
conversant with the science, or that the science itself is 
imperfect. The phrenologist may err in some of his 
deductions, from a proper sphere of action not being yet 
assigned to every organ ; or it may be, for I will not 
pretend to doubt it, from the science being yet in its 
infancy — yet faulty in some of the essential materials of 
which it is composed, to say nothing of the deductions 
which may be supposed to be afforded. But, admitting 
that all who differ in opinion with respect to the exact 



COLLOQUY IX. 175 

capacity of this faculty, or the situation of that, cannot 
be right, I think there is no more than presumptive 
evidence, at least, that one or the other may not be so. 
We are only to question the perfectibility of that about 
which they differ; and no phrenologist pretends to affirm 
that his science is perfect beyond improvement. He regards 
it as in its infancy, and waits for the combined efforts of 
many minds to make it more complete. He sees, by 
what is already presented, a beautiful and interesting 
country before him, the interior of which only waits to 
be explored by some auxiliary parties, equally anxious 
with himself to explore with zeal. The difference of 
opinion, therefore, among phrenologists themselves, a fact 
so readily brought forward by the anti-phrenological body, 
is no argument of the doctrine being untrue in principle, 
or in its chief elements. Different minds think differ- 
ently, and particularly when there is room for the subject 
admitting of it, owing to intricacy and incompleteness. 

STEWART. 

Phrenology, in the whole, is generally regarded as 
chimerical, and its advocates as not a whit better than the 
astrologers and alchymists of old, who deluded the weaker 
part of mankind by their fallacy and arts. I do not mean 
to put your science on a footing with these absurd and 
preposterous speculations ; but I would mention the fact, 
that you and others may be stimulated to wipe away so 
odious, and certainly unfair, an imputation. If phre- 
nology be true, it is decidedly a noble system, but the 
public must be satisfied of its truth ; then the strength 
of your party will be increased, and as there will be more 
labourers, the building will be sooner perfected. The 
phrenologist may not have been assailed by sound and 



176 COLLOQUY IX. 

unanswerable arguments, by any inferences drawn from 
just premises, by facts carrying with them the force of 
truth, by legitimate and fair modes of reasoning ; but men 
do not know this. What appears ridiculous to them at a 
superficial view, will gain strength by the opinions of other 
parties, however specious and trivial those opinions may 
be. Men are too apt to take things for granted, if they 
at all tally with their own views of the subject; and thus 
one semblance of error is heaped upon another, until a 
dark and thick cloud of prejudice is gathered and not 
easily dissipated. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

With respect to phrenology being a true science, there 
can, I think, be no doubt ; and while this impression 
reigns in my mind, I shall deem it a kind of duty — a 
duty which every man owes to science — to persist in 
advocating it. If the advocacy should draw after it the 
ridicule of a certain party, I have the satisfaction of 
knowing that I have a host, a numerous concourse of 
facts to support me, and that no man can prove that the 
main elements of the science are incorrect and fallacious. 
These are consoling reflections. The subject is, too, 
strictly connected with the profession of which I am a 
member. It comprises, indeed, nothing more nor less 
than the structure and functions of the brain, the most 
important of the bodily organs. But I am led in part to 
believe that it is the true science of mind, from the follow- 
ing facts, some of which I have before noticed. In the 
first place, no metaphysician nor philosopher, ancient or 
modern, ever established any satisfactory or even reason- 
able system, giving us a just idea of the innate faculties 
of the mind, or so much as their mode of operation ; 
which leaves me at liberty to conclude that something is 



COLLOQUY IX. 177 

defective in the premises upon which they have attempted 
to raise their theories. In the next place, it is quite 
evident that no spiritual action in man can take place but 
through the instrumentality of matter ; and it is proved, 
I think, by a long concatenation of circumstances, by 
reason and experience, that no one organ can be the 
instrument of different faculties, and produce infinitely 
different results. Shall the same organ give forth pride 
and humility ? Shall one faculty produce both benevo- 
lence and hatred ? If the brain were a single organ, and 
yet the organ of the mind, which most persons will be 
disposed to allow, it is the instrument of opposite proper- 
ties, capable of working essentially different results ; — 
its force is complicated, though but a single implement ; 
— it can work in opposite ways, though it is of a nature 
that will not permit it to work in more than one. 

STEWART. 

It is quite evident, for I will assume it as being 
proved, that the brain, and that only, is the organ of the 
mind. I am likewise willing to believe and declare, 
that the mind has different innate properties, which are 
employed differently, and that the results emanating 
from them are, really and virtually, opposed in character 
and tendency. But the grand question at issue is, 
whether the same organ be able to perform such a variety 
of functions, or be made instrumental to the development 
of all these widely opposed faculties ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Certainly not — at least, it cannot be proved ; nor can 
an analogous instance of the kind be found in nature. 
If not, it is then assumed that the brain has different 



178 COLLOQUY IX. 

organs, and that they are as numerous as the faculties are 
different : this numerical proportion amounts to the 
number of the faculties, which are each dissimilar in 
nature. From reason we deduce this fact, and from 
observation and experience we prove it. Practical facts 
are the proofs "against the force of which," for I will not 
let your own words escape me, si persons cannot, with con- 
sistency, shut their eyes." Being assured that every 
function of the mind is the emanation of these faculties, 
singly or collectively, and that the brain is the material 
medium, what reasonable objection can there be to each 
faculty manifesting itself by different organs ? It cannot 
be that the subject would lead to materialism ; because 
one organ is as capable of materializing the mind as a 
hundred. Having arrived at this position, which is 
incontestibly true — proved I may say by ancient and 
modern philosophers, we have only to take one more step 
to lead us to the essence of phrenology, in regard to the 
existence of a multiplicity of organs. We have only to 
shew that what the brain cannot reasonably be supposed 
to do of itself, as a single, undivided, uncomplicated 
instrument, is done by means of a congeries of distinct 
instruments, dovetailed together, and assisting each other, 
like the parts of a complicated machine. I have said 
that this fact is deduced from reason, and that it is 
proved by observation. Can anyone disprove it? Now, 
having built the fabric, though it is not in every respect 
yet complete, shall it not be made useful ? I leave others 
to prove its utility, to apply and give it effect. Its use- 
fulness is a secondary consideration with the public in 
general. They desire to know, to be satisfied whether 
there are any grounds for the conclusions at which phre- 
nologists have arrived, but at which, it must nevertheless 
be confessed, they have too often jumped. Now — 



COLLOQUY IX. 179 



STEWART. 

Your arguments, Sir, are plausible, though not per- 
haps conclusive; but I am unwilling to interrupt you 
further than this. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

That cannot be deemed an interruption which brings 
with it any observation from Dugald Stewart. I was 
going on to say, that the constitution of the mind, as 
revealed by the phrenologist, is, above all others, the best 
calculated to shew man how wisely he is adapted to the 
external world — how well arranged the faculties of his 
mind are to obey the physical and moral laws of the 
universe — how fitted to fill that station which the Creator 
has designed for him — how significant of wisdom, good- 
ness, and power ! It shews that all the faculties are of 
themselves good and useful, that their arrangement is 
both consistent and beautiful ; and that it is not the use, 
but the abuse, we are called upon to reprobate and dis- 
approve. These are the views, I imagine, of Mr. Combe, 
when he says, " Phrenology is the true science of man," 
and implies, that without it man cannot understand 
nor conform to all the relations he bears to the external 
world. Although I am unable to shew that the science, 
as now framed, is imperfect to any great extent, there is 
no doubt of the degree of its utility being, at present, 
very limited ; and this limitation, it is feared, will long, 
if not always, exist. Were the principles ever so clearly 
established, there are some circumstances which will pre- 
vent such an use of them as shall be of practical benefit. 
Nevertheless, the chief objects to which the phrenologist 
supposes it may be applied, are education, insanity, legis- 
n2 



180 COLLOQUY IX. 

lation, and odd as it may sound, in the choice of our 
wives, husbands, and servants — in fact, all with whom it 
may be found necessary to deal. If phrenology gives an 
insight into character as it really exists, stripped of art or 
deception, and if actions are specious enough to cover 
designs, the motives and principles of the mind, phre- 
nology will be found particularly useful in the selection 
of friends, &c. in case, at least, the motives cannot be 
fathomed by other means, which may indisputably be 
done with tolerable accuracy by a sagacious man. There 
are yet many difficulties in the way of judging with cer- 
tainty of the secret impelling power of the mind by 
phrenology ; and it would be vain and idle for any person 
to attempt to decide, who was not thoroughly conversant 
with the practice as well as the theory ; but it requires 
no small share of labour and attention, no trivial degree 
of accuracy of perception and combination, to attain thus 
much. It may be possible for a person, knowing the 
situation of the organs, to say which was large and which 
small, and hence judge of its activity; but of the extent, 
while it was subject to the controul of other organs, he 
could say nothing, unless acquainted with the influences 
of the organs in their various combinations : and he needs 
a regular scholastic discipline before he can arrive at this 
knowledge, even in an imperfect degree. It is at once a 
complicated system. The difficulties are not a little 
multiplied by the fact of the quality of the brain, a 
knowledge of which it is most difficult to gain, having 
considerable influence over the manifestations; yet so inge- 
niously arranged are the phrenological organs — so neces- 
sary and natural are the functions they are said to perform 
— so adapted are they to answer the purposes of life— and 
so certain is it that the phrenologist can, according to the 
present arrangement, and his notions of their respective 



COLLOQUY IX. 181 

and relative functions, determine, with considerable pre- 
cision, upon the intellectual, moral, and physical biasses 
of the mind, that we cannot fail to see a large share of 
beauty and consistency in the science; nor can we be 
unmindful of its practicability, uncertain as it may yet 
sometimes be, while the phrenologist is able to perform 
what he undertakes to perform. It is not much, not 
indeed enough for any useful purposes connected with 
life. It is still such as to leave no room to doubt he has 
some proper and authentic data to proceed upon. The 
inferences so generally correct, cannot be guesses ; neither 
is he endowed with inspiration to form opinions which 
nothing less than that, or most direct evidence could 
possibly provide. But there is this evidence. 



STEWART. 

If so, and there as yet appears reason to believe it, 
phrenologists have not struggled in vain. The light in 
which you put the science is moderate and qualified, and 
you support your assertions by arguments carrying with 
them much plausibility, if not power ; though it is very 
possible to argue well in a bad cause. The arguments 
both for and against phrenology are ingenious. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

But those in favour of it are the most powerful, 
cogent, and elaborate. This I saw while yet a sceptic. 
It required no penetration to perceive that the anti- 
phrenologist was less powerful in combat than his anta- 
gonist, or that he was on less advantageous ground, and 
without equally good weapons. 



182 COLLOQUY IX. 

STEWART. 

Your opponents have yet attacked you at points which 
are evidently weak. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I grant it : but they are points which the phrenologist 
himself never considered strong. Even the inconsist- 
encies of the earliest founder — inconsistencies long since 
wiped away — have been brought forward with the view 
of giving an unfair idea of the science as it now stands. 
How weak must be that cause wherein such means are 
resorted to ! Besides, if the incongruities which attach 
themselves to the beginning of a science, be made objec- 
tions to it when brought to comparative maturity, and 
when, in fact, those incongruities are no more recognized 
— if rather, a system, ultimately perfected, be ridiculous, 
because its projectors were unable to speak correctly of it, 
or because they placed it in an erroneous light, simply 
for want of experience, then every science, whatever it 
may be, is ridiculous, since every one at its origin, as 
is proved by the experience of after-ages, possessed but 
little of that genuine matter which may now recommend 
it to the world. 

STEWART. 

Of this there can be no doubt ; and the futility of 
such a mode of opposition cannot be questioned. But 
you have facts, and these are better than all abstract 
reasoning, aiding and assisting as it is. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Yes, I remember some of the most decided. De Ville 
examined, in my presence, the head of a gentleman who 



COLLOQUY IX. 183 

had not the power of distinguishing colours. He was a 
stranger to the phrenological Hon. At the part of the 
eyebrow where the organ of colour is said to exist, there 
was an indentation : — De Ville told him, without hesita- 
tion, that this faculty was defective — that, in fact, he was 
unable to distinguish the differences between colours. A 
gentleman once presented himself to me who had the 
same kind of indentation and defectiveness. But these 
are only two instances among many of the existence of 
this organ. Facts, equally illustrative, are on record with 
respect to each of the other faculties, excepting three or 
four, about which there still remains considerable doubt. 
I will name a few others. A young lady, to whom I was 
a perfect stranger, was anxious to know if she had any 
particular intellectual talent. The organs of construc- 
tiveness and form were unusually large — the distance 
between the temples very wide, and the height of the 
forehead proportionate. I came to the conclusion that 
she had intellect enough to do almost what she pleased ; 
but that in any thing which required mechanical con- 
trivance and invention, her abilities were powerful. The 
persons present confessed that her powers in this way 
were remarkable ; and they then related a whole catalogue 
of arts in which she excelled, confirming the justness of 
my conclusion. On my first visit to a family in Devon- 
shire, who reside some distance in the country, I was 
welcomed thus by the lady — " I am so glad to see you ; but 
do tell us something about our children's heads." — "That 
boy," I replied, pointing to him, " never forgets things nor 
persons he has once seen." — " Yes," he said, " I recollect 
seeing you at the Horticultural Meeting." — I was then a 
perfect stranger to him and others in the room, which 
was crowded to suffocation, containing, at a rough esti- 
mate, three or four hundred persons. Though this fact 



184 XJOLLOQUY IX. 

may not seem extraordinary, it nevertheless has a strong 
tendency to shew that the organ which gave him this 
faculty of recognition and recollection is established ; be- 
cause the organ itself was particularly prominent, and his 
mother corroborated the truth of my remark in the most 
unqualified terms. The bridge of the nose was wide, the 
part of the forehead immediately above it raised, project- 
ing, and the immediate surrounding level in the vicinity 
of eventuality and locality, likewise considerably elevated. 
He had a good local memory and remembrance of events. 
His facility in individualizing objects was uncommon ; 
the organ of individuality being the strongest marked of 
any. He was continually expressing a wish to be a 
soldier. His organs of self-esteem, love of approbation, 
and combativeness were large, and he would talk of 
the delight he should experience in travelling about in 
this capacity. The organ of locality, which, when largely 
developed, gives a travelling propensity and desire for 
fresh localities, was in him full. De Ville mentioned 
one instance in particular, in one of his lectures, relative 
to this organ. A gentleman had, in his hearing, been 
ridiculing phrenology, and, meantime, unsparing in his 
abuse of its advocates. De Ville boldly accosted him, 
humorously observing that, if he was not fond of phre- 
nology, he was at least of travelling, and that a person 
could not be fond of every thing. The remark, if not in 
these words, was to the effect. The gentleman being a 
great traveller, was surprised at the justness of the 
observation, and begged to be informed how such a fact 
was ascertained. He was told that the organ of locality 
was too prominent to leave any doubt of his propensity. 
He then suffered De Ville to examine his head, wherein 
was discovered a fulness of the organ of inhabitiveness or 
concentrativeness, a faculty somewhat opposed to locality 



COLLOQUY IX. 185 

in disposition, and the two opposing forces in this gen- 
tleman's mind were strong. He became a convert, and 
allowed a cast to be taken of his head. 

STEWART. 

Phrenologists may think much of every conversion of 
this kind. It not only enlists another advocate on their 
side, but it places their cause in the most advantageous 
position, in so far as it shews the world that the system 
is not a baseless fabric. Those who are disposed to ridi- 
cule, and whose prejudices are strong enough to defy all 
evidence, however strong, may not be moved ; but with 
the liberal mind, accustomed to admit the force of evi- 
dence, though it may be against his convictions, it will 
have due weight. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The obstinacy of the public mind, in refusing to yield 
assent to the clear and decided evidence adduced in behalf 
of phrenology, is almost unparalleled ; but, like a mound 
before a heavy swelling stream, it is now gradually giving 
way. The inundation of facts must in time break through 
the unfair barrier so long opposed to it. But I have yet 
a few other facts to record out of the host with which 
phrenology supplies us. I was once requested to examine 
the head of a lady, with whose character I was previously 
well acquainted. Persuaded I should find a conformation 
which she would not approve, it was not till repeated 
requests had been made that I consented. The lady was 
convinced she had organs of which I could not possibly 
know any thing ; and I was somewhat anxious and ready 
to make the examination, that I might be assured of her 
organization corresponding with the tone and inclinations 



186 COLLOQUY IX. 

of her mind, which, in two particulars, were remarkably 
conspicuous. Penuriousness and vanity were the great 
leading traits of her character. As though conscious of 
her imperfections, or willing to close her eyes and under- 
standing against them, which it would be the greatest 
mortification for her to believe she possessed, she ex- 
claimed, as I was making the investigation, " The only 
faculties I have small, are Acquisitiveness and Love of 
Approbation." — " Indeed," I responded, "they are the 
only two you have large." — Though it had been previously 
understood that whatever I said contrary to her own per- 
suasions should be set down to my ignorance, the declara- 
tion was never forgiven. It might not have been wise to 
say what I knew beforehand and what phrenology then 
confirmed, but it was honest 

STEWART. 

What ! do you make wisdom and honesty opposed to 
each other? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The wisdom of this world, for so you are to under- 
stand it, is not honesty. I was bound to tell the truth, 
not only for the sake of phrenology — not only according to 
the demand made upon me to do so by the lady herself; 
but it was incumbent on me in a moral point of view. 
To deceive her still more than she was already deceived, 
was not my place, nor could it be justly done. I knew 
the avenue to her heart, and could have found a ready 
admission ; but hypocrisy, which you may compound into 
wisdom if you can, would not serve me so far. The least 
deserving of men are the most prosperous. They conform 
to the distorted rules of society — they minister to the 



COLLOQUY IX. 187 

vanity of the world — they intrigue — they plot. A straight- 
forward honest course is not the course of men: it is — and 
how sad is the affirmation, the fact ! — adverse to fortune. 
I need not go farther than the medical profession. The 
most facetious and ignorant men, who will consent to 
humour the caprices of their patient, and use all the win- 
ning arts of conversation to captivate the fancy, and flatter 
the vanity, will thrive in their ignorance — that very thing 
against which it should be the object of the world to 
guard. 

STEWART. 

In this case you make the public more anxious for 
their whims to be fed, than their lives to be saved. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is evidently so. You may recollect to have heard 
of the story of a certain physician in whom no evidences 
of superior skill were ever manifested — who was fond of 
his bottle; and who yet rose to considerable repute through 
an accidental, and by no means reputable circumstance. 
After waiting a long season without a patient, and 
without a fee, he was, through the intercession of a 
friend, opportunely, for so it happened, called in, late in 
the evening, to attend a certain lady of rank, whom he, 
tipsy himself, found in a state of intoxication. Unable 
to preserve his own balance as he reached for her Grace's 
pulse, he fell upon the bed, and in allusion to his own 
state, exclaimed < < Drunk by G — ! " The Duchess was not 
too insensible to notice this, and took it to be in allusion 
to herself. Fearful the doctor should mention the cir- 
cumstance, she called upon him early the next morning, 
and begged as a favour he would not name the affair of her 



188 COLLOQUY IX. 

having made too free with Bacchus, promising him every 
support. The doctor till now was ignorant of the nature 
of his patient's complaint. What he pronounced to be 
hysterics, or something he hardly knew what, he now 
found to have been drunkenness. His eyes were now 
open — his fortune was made. He promised to keep the 
matter a secret, especially as he was so personally inter- 
ested in it ; nor until he had gained riches, and honour, 
and reputation, and even titles, did the grand secret ever 
escape him. The Duchess said she must drink ; of whose 
effects he was not in future to take any notice, in case he 
was called to see her; "for," added her Grace, * c I must 
have my cordials." — "Drink, Madam, drink, if you must," 
was the reply of the sagacious doctor. Had he told her 
the habit would ruin her digestion, her mind, her body, 
she would, in all probability, have never sent for him 
again, but have got some one who would allow what she 
wished. If life were longer, talent and honesty might 
find their way ; but the reverse succeeds best for a period 
at least. 

STEWART. 

This is saying very little for the discernment of the 
world ; but experience justifies your assertion. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

As far as the medical world is concerned, I can r prove 
it. To one talented man in repute — and that is a man 
seldom found to descend to littlenesses and hypocrisies — 
there will be found twenty others who^are the reverse : 
not that skilful, reading, thoughtful men, grasping with 
a giant mind other sciences as well as their own, are so 
scarce, but that they are not known, or not tried ; their 



COLLOQUY IX. 189 

manners are, if not repulsive, at least not so pleasant, 
which is too often another name for littleness and hypo- 
crisy, when the pecuniary interests of the pleasant gentle- 
man are concerned. But when shall the public be taught 
to choose men for their talents, and be made to throw off 
that incubus which depresses the energies of the mind, 
and obliges them to yield to levities and sillynesses ? 
When shall the grand object of medicine be made the 
primary object with the world ? 

STEWART. 

Not till you have dispensed with the follies that beset 
the world — not till Reason has gained her lawful seat, and 
exercised her full dominion. The man whose knowledge 
extends over the largest empire — a knowledge not con- 
fined to one science — whose mind is so expanded as to 
seize all that it encounters, will reason with most propriety, 
and penetrate mysteries, and divine causes, to which the 
weaker mind will ever remain a stranger. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

You would thus mean to imply, that the man whose 
knowledge is limited to one science — whose general in- 
formation is trifling, must necessarily be imperfect even 
in that one thing, or, at all events, incapable of compre- 
hending the complicated machinery of which that science 
consists. If so, I accord with you in every respect. If a 
man told me he knew his profession only, I should be 
inclined to reply — Then, Sir, you know nothing. 

STEWART. 

We will wave this digression, much as the stricture 
is called for. I am disposed, and I echo the sentiments 



190 COLLOQUY IX. 

of the world, to hear other facts, if you ever call to mind 
any that carry with them a force equal to that which 
attends those you have already related. It is, however, 
too late to pursue the subject now. To-morrow we meet 
again. I appoint no time nor place. You will say I am 
rather a listener than a teacher, and in that capacity I 
choose to continued/or the present Farewell ! 



I 



( 191 ) 



COLLOQUY X. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



Man, organically considered, is one of the noblest 
monuments of creative energy. Viewed in his earliest 
embryo state, we see him a confused mass of materials, 
yet with the principle of life, growth, maturity, decay, 
and death, which are natural to all organized substances. 
Viewed at a later period, even though yet in embryo, we 
behold an arrangement of parts, admirably and delicately 
constructed, and adapted to some such purposes as shall 
hereafter be, and as are yet by nature, indeed, assigned to 
it. The progress of the organization from its germ up- 
wards may, with much propriety, be compared to the 
progress of a vegetable from the first expansion of the 
seed, to the complete development of its several parts. 
They are both organic substances, and subject to similar 
physical laws. With the assistance of the microscope, 
we are able to discover all the organs of a mature being, 
when the embryo is only a few days old. Sir Everard 
Home detected the brain at eight days; and there is no 
reason to suppose this at all impossible, when, in the 
animalcula, which is, at least, a thousandth part smaller, 
the microscope discovers a system of organs aptly adapted, 
though not perhaps so complicated. We know not, 



192 COLLOQUY X. 

indeed, that the very germ of the species does not possess 
all the organs perfect in their relations, and complete in 
their numbers. The essence from which all the organs 
spring is, at least, existent ; and of what is the essence 
composed, if not of parts and principles which are, sooner 
or later, brought into visible existence ? There is no 
doubt that an arrangement, incomplete as it may be, exists 
in every germ as well as in every seed. In the growth of 
a human being, from birth to maturity, we discover a 
beautiful adaptation in it to the design of Providence; for 
as the child is called upon to exercise certain instincts and 
duties compatible with its situation in the many progres- 
sive stages of its existence, we find that the parts adapted 
to their performance are the most perfectly developed. 
For instance, we discover the tongue, stomach, liver, 
lungs, and alimentary canal perfect, though not arrived at 
their full size, from birth ; whereas the brain is yet a 
homogeneous mass, and not divisible into parts, to that 
perfect extent, at least, which we are able to trace in the 
visceral organs. From birth these organs are required to 
exercise the same functions as they are at maturity, or any 
period during the existence of the object ; but the brain 
is not so required, and, therefore, its organs are slower in 
their development. At maturity we are presented with a 
being complete in every part — a being which, after suc- 
cessive stages of growth, is now more fully adapted to be 
the instrument of all those avocations to which both 
nature and providence have called it. The bones, muscles, 
nerves, brain, and every member, in fact, as well as every 
relation which one member may bear to another, have 
each arrived at that period when, agreeably to the consti- 
tution of human nature, all shall be fully developed. If 
there be any exception to this, it is with the brain, which 
commonly makes some advancement in growth, its several 



COLLOQUY X. 193 

organs becoming more complete after this period; but 
not, perhaps, independently of the observance of a certain 
law, that of its being exercised to a greater extent. 

It is a law in the animal economy, that, as a part is 
exercised, it shall increase in size ; and this law holds good 
with respect to the brain, and especially so with the 
muscle. The law, however, is not confined to these, but 
extends itself through the whole congeries of organs. It 
is limited in its operations on some occasions, so far as all 
organs are not capable of being equally exercised. 

Now, the human frame has received from its Creator 
a certain constitution, a definite character — that is, all 
human beings have, in their organic developments, been 
cast in the same mould, with the exception of some slight 
disproportions in the relative sizes of different members. 
These disproportions, infinitely varied as they are in the 
human family, constituting those differences which dis- 
tinguish one man from another, never deviate to such an 
extent as to bear an impression of their not having been 
cast in the one universal mould, which would sacrifice 
the identity of the species. The disproportions of which 
I speak are no infringement of that established law which 
preserves the identity of the species. It is, indeed, as 
much a law that difference should exist in the relative 
size of organs, so as to give every man an organic character 
peculiarly his own, by which he may be distinguished 
from his fellows, as that a certain standard of character 
should run through, or be preserved throughout the 
whole chain of the human family. It was evidently the 
design of Providence that these disproportions should 
exist, and that design must necessarily be accompanied 
by a law, which is universal in its operation. We dis- 
cover infinite wisdom in this arrangement; without it 
human nature could not subsist, unless, at least, man 
o 



194 COLLOQUY X. 

was subject to another law, first instituted by the 
Creator, by which he may be able to recognise his brother- 
men by traits of character, independently of organization. 
Disorder would be manifested in the whole moral world ; 
the evils endless. Much as we would desire a perfect 
development in every individual, any rule set by man to 
accomplish that end would be frustrated by Providence ; 
and for this reason we cannot bring the human conform- 
ation to one standard. The disproportions may, by 
attending to certain rules, be greatly modified : for 
instance, the offspring of two individuals beautifully 
developed, and presenting in their bodily proportions 
great similitude to the original, Adam and Eve, whom 
we will suppose to have been perfect in this respect, 
would in general be more beautiful in its relative parts 
than that offspring who was the produce of parents 
the reverse in conformation. Health of body is also 
necessary to the perfect development of the child ; and the 
preservation of this good development obtained from the 
parent, depends upon circumstances. This point being 
attended to in the whole of the human family — a desire 
being manifested in each individual, comparatively perfect 
in physical nature, to unite with none who may not be 
equally perfect-— a law, in fact, being enacted by the 
legislature to prevent alliances between parties not 
of good proportions, a great degree of perfection and 
uniformity would be arrived at in man. But this act 
would be an infringement of another law, i. e. it would 
be dividing one man against another, and annihilating a 
portion of the human species by provisions which would 
not be justified in the sight of the great Lawgiver. 
There is no doubt, however, that the disproportions are, 
in many instances, of that character as to render them 
otherwise than desirable, and here an attempt at rectifi- 



■ 



COLLOQUY X. 195 

cation becomes necessary, and, by observing certain 
circumstances, may certainly be accomplished; the organi- 
zation in every relation of life being considerably modi- 
fied by the external circumstances to which man is 
exposed, and under whose influence, whether congenial 
or otherwise, he lives. 

One of the greatest organic differences in the human 
species is the colour by which the different varieties are 
recognised. This cannot be accounted for upon natural 
causes, as might be the case with the disproportions 
referred to. It is an organic difference which neither 
science nor reason has yet been able to explain, nor is it 
a difference upon which we can argue with much 
satisfaction : it affects not, however, the identity of the 
species, nor does any variety of organization to which 
human beings are subject, at all infringe that law which 
preserves the identity. There is one thing in the organic 
constitution of man in which no deviation has ever yet 
been perceived, except on monstrous occasions : this is 
the number of organs of which the body is constituted. 
These organs are so essential for the relative position and 
functions of each other, that no man hitherto has been 
known to exist without the full complement. There can 
be no exception to this rule, because it is a law of nature. 

We discover that each organ is subject to peculiar 
laws of its own ; to those which are physical and chemical 
especially. There are yet many changes in organic matter 
which are imputed to laws peculiarly belonging to the 
particles of which it is composed, but which really ought 
to be ascribed to the laws of life, a principle perfectly 
different from organization. There is one thing, how- 
ever, particularly referable to organic matter, as differing 
from that which is unorganized. It is necessarily derived 
from matter already organized, which, by reason of its 
o 2 



196 COLLOQUY X. 

constitution, must be nourished by matter of the same 
nature, if we except the vegetable. In no other than 
vital organic matter, for that only is organized which is 
pervaded by life, do we see the processes of growth and 
decay, Besides this, we see nowhere the same laws 
operating in unorganized matter as we see in organic 
matter, even though life might have fled ; and this cir- 
cumstance gives a particular feature to the organic world. 
The elements of which the body is composed are, in one 
respect, physical, simply because they are subject to 
physical laws ; still, each part, how minute soever it may 
be, has a definite nature peculiarly distinct from mere 
physical matter, and this peculiarity we must deem 
organic, as being vitalized. As yet it retains the elements 
of a being not yet reduced to the condition of unorganized 
matter, and still subject to laws which no other species of 
matter is. This would bring me to the consideration of 
the vital laws — to man as a vital being. In proportion to 
the development of the organic germ, which I have 
already compared to a seed in its expansion, so we dis- 
cover the manifestations of vitality; and with the growth 
of the embryo, from the first act of organic arrange- 
ment to birth, and from birth to maturity, we behold the 
functions of life gradually developed, raising up a fabric, 
animating and preserving it. To watch the progress of 
this principle, to observe its processes, and the number- 
less ways by which it completes its objects, are subjects 
well worth the attention of man, although they engross 
so small a portion of his time. While there are few 
principles more complicated and powerful, and there is 
certainly no one on earth more so than the human mind, 
there are few better calculated to direct our thoughts to 
the First Great Cause. Upon this principle depends the 
whole of the vegetable and animal world, and the num- 



COLLOQUY X. 197 

berless manifestations of it, from the common blade of 
grass to the stately oak in the vegetable kingdom, and 
from the animalcula to the whale or melagosaurus in the 
animal, producing, in every state of organization, different 
events, and establishing a peculiar conformation in the 
constitution of the materials, in the number, relative 
situation, and size of the organs, and in every such respect 
as shall establish and maintain a different economy. 

From its development, under every circumstance, 
keeping pace with the growth of the frame — from the 
instance of its operations being confined to the body, and 
from the event of all operations being by material organs, 
some physiologists, as well as other men, have confounded 
it with the organization itself, and conceived it as a 
part and parcel of the essence of matter. This is taking 
an erroneous view of the case ; for true as all the above 
circumstances are, and unable as man is to comprehend 
how and when the principle became united to the 
organism it pervades, there is no doubt, I think, that it 
is essentially distinct from the organization. There are, 
indeed, many reasons to believe, and reasons founded, 
too, upon observation, that life is not the result of a cer- 
tain combination of functions carried on by the organiza- 
tion, and especially not an essential part of the organs 
themselves. Among other proofs of this we may instance 
the fact of death, when not only every function is 
suspended, but the power which previously preserved 
the body from the influence of the physical laws in 
creation, is totally extinguished. This simple instance of 
death shews that life is not an essential property of 
organization ; for if it were, it must ever exist with 
organization, and death could not reign. 

We know that, in order to preserve life, or in other 
words, the continuance of these functions, without which 



198 COLLOQUY X. 

life certainly does not exist, it is only necessary that 
creatures should provide those articles of nourishment 
which Providence has so bountifully bestowed ; but the 
cessation of these functions, from whatever cause it may 
be supposed to arise, is, in reality, the effect of the prin- 
ciple which turned this nourishment to account having 
been destroyed, or, if not destroyed, separated from the 
body. Now when we consider the phenomena that relate 
to organization, the complexity and wonderful mechanism 
of the human system, in the uniformity of its structure, 
the aptness of the design which accompanies it, the per- 
fection of its parts, and contemplate the great diversity of 
results produced, and think of those results, so various in 
character and endless in number, being carried on for 
years together in one harmonious and uniform manner, 
and that, too, without occasioning fatigue either to the 
body or the mind, we cannot but feel interested in the 
cause, whether it be material or immaterial. Man alone 
has the power of observing these several organic phe- 
nomena, and, from his natural enterprise and curiosity, 
is desirous of discovering the connection subsisting be- 
tween them and their cause, and imputing or tracing 
them to their right source. It is about the cause which 
men differ, the nature of which is, agreeably to some 
persons, material — to others spiritual : the phenomena 
themselves are objects of our senses, the wisdom of which 
none but an idealist would pretend to doubt. — Such were 
my cogitations on the physiological condition of man 
while seated on a rustic bridge overgrown with ivy, and 
surrounded by groves of trees and thick underwood. A 
scene better calculated, perhaps, for the exercise of the 
fancy, or the recollection of some by-gone emotions of 
love, than the dry and deeper reflections of the intellect. 
But the most poetical scenery does not always elicit 



COLLOQUY X. 199 

poetical ideas. The bent of the mind is swayed by its 
constitution, and the pursuits of life we are destined to 
follow ; and often are those pursuits adverse to the inhe- 
rent inclination, and hence unproductive of any essential 
good. The secludedness of the spot was such as to tempt 
the Professor ; and I had scarcely turned my attention to 
the convenience and rusticity of the place, before I beheld 
him advancing towards me. 

STEWART. 

You have chosen a charming situation for the exercise 
of the imagination. This little rivulet, that dark um- 
brageous wood, this romantic bridge, that landscape of 
great dimensions and variety, will afford food for the 
fancy, and that contentment to the mind which is so 
necessary to the higher flights of genius. Philosophy 
ranks second to poetry so far as genius is concerned, but 
it is, nevertheless, the most useful. It requires more 
reflection, more sober thought, but less of creation and 
invention, in which the strength of the mind is particu- 
larly put forth. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Imaginative reflections are certainly more pleasing 
than abstruse studies, and they are essentially different 
actions of the mind; but the philosopher, even in the 
midst of his philosophizing, is generally a poet ; and he 
who mingles with his philosophy the strongest poetical 
allusions is usually the most attractive and engaging of 
writers. Before your arrival my thoughts were directed 
to physiology : I was thinking of the curious mechanism 
of the body, and the vital principle which animates and 
directs it. 



200 COLLOQUY X. 



STEWART. 

There has long been a mistake among divines and 
philosophers in confounding life with mind. They are 
most certainly distinct principles ; the vegetable has life, 
the most insignificant reptile has life, but who will say 
either has a mind? Although we may not be able to 
prove that life in man has ever been carried on without 
mind existing in the body at the same time, it is evident, 
nevertheless, that all the functions of mind, unless, at 
least, the functions of the liver and other automatic 
organs, are considered functions of the mind, have been 
suspended, as in the case of complete fainting, and in 
violent concussions and other affections of the brain, 
while all the functions of life, as I would say, are carried 
on. This mistake on the part of divines and philoso- 
phers would appear to arise from inattention to the sub- 
ject. The passage of Scripture, " God breathed into 
man the breath of life, and man became a living soul," is 
not sufficiently confirmable. There are other parts of 
Scripture which clearly testify that soul and life, if not 
mind, are distinct substances. Life has reference to this 
world only, while mind is intimately concerned in that to 
come. Life, in a future state, would be useless, as its 
utility is confined to the animation of the body, and to 
the carrying on of all the functions of supply and waste 
which are necessary to its existence, and there is no body 
in another state of being requiring such supplies, or 
making such wastes. If life be not required in future, 
it cannot be mind or soul ; because an immortal spirit, 
entered upon its eternity, could not be encumbered by 
that which was not immediately useful, and suited to its 
new condition. But this is a digression. I left you with 



COLLOQUY X. 



201 



an impression, on my last visit, that I was willing to hear 
you relate other facts in confirmation of the truth of that 
part of physiology which more particularly concerns the 
brain, the functions of which a certain class of physiolo- 
gists has been pleased to call phrenology. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The word phrenology was, I believe, substituted for 
that of craniology, the original term, by Dr. Forster, of 
Ben'et College, Cambridge. He thought it more appro- 
priate and expressive, and it unquestionably is so. The 
cranium is a mere duplicate, representing the form of the 
brain, by which phrenologists judge of character, and 
that with so much precision as to induce some individuals 
to " tremble for their heads" when in the presence of 
renowned phrenologists. 

STEWART. 
At this I am not surprised : if persons have an idea 
that their heads form a kind of mirror which reflects the 
picture of their minds. There are few who can bear this 
exposure. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is said that " M. Denis, librarian to the Emperor, 
actually inserted a clause in his will, for the express pur- 
pose of securing his head from the researches of Dr. Gall." 
And I well recollect being in a room where two or three 
ladies present were determined I should not get a full 
view of their craniums, lest, as they afterwards acknow- 
ledged, I might detect some parts too prominently 
developed, and which they were anxious should not be 
known to have any existence in them. But persons need 
be in no fear on this score, as the propensities are situated 



202 COLLOQUY X. 

chiefly in parts which are covered with hair. The outline 
of the head may afford some information — the relative 
sizes of the three lobes, intellectual, moral, and physical, 
perceived — and some general, though imperfect estimate 
be formed. I have heard of several peculiar instances 
wherein the prevailing tendencies of the mind were accu- 
rately judged of at a superficial glance. Three students 
presented themselves to a celebrated phrenologist for the 
purpose of undergoing the ordeal of examination. One 
of them, on entering the room, was thus accosted by the 
phrenologist — " I need make no examination of your 
head to be assured that if I offended you, a blow would 
be the first token of your rage." The companions of the 
young student were convulsed with laughter at the truth 
of the remark, and the self-accusing countenance of their 
friend. The observation was, in every respect, just. 
This gentleman had an immoderate bulging of the head 
immediately in the neighbourhood of the ear, where the 
organs of destructiveness and combativeness lie, and 
which, at all times, indicate, when thus constituted, 
brute rage, sudden anger, accompanied with some phy- 
sical manifestation of the internal commotion of the 
mind. It may shew itself in horrid gesticulations, in 
extreme agitation of the limbs, or shifting of the body, 
but generally with a disposition to make use of blows — a 
passion not always governable in young persons who 
have not been taught the lesson of prudence. 

STEWART. 
I have frequently heard of the facilities of the phre- 
nologist in this respect, and cannot but be surprised at 
their correctness ; but will not physiognomy, the ingenious 
system of Lavater, afford some insight into the tempera- 
ment of the mind ? 



COLLOQUY X. 203 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

I believe it will, but not with so much accuracy or 
certainty as the system of Gall. I think it not unlikely 
that phrenologists are often assisted, in their conclusions, 
by the contour, the expression, the lines of the counte- 
nance; but to say that he judged by means which he, 
professedly, does not, would be accusing him of dis- 
honesty, which we have no reason to suppose forms any 
part of the character of the most avowed champions of 
the science. 

STEWART. 

It is not my intention to accuse them of this offence, 
evident as it might be that they are second Lavaters as 
well as second Galls. It is possible they may take a 
glance at the countenance in times of difficulty and uncer- 
tainty. Being, for instance, unable to arrive at a posi- 
tive conclusion in regard to any one point of character by 
the conformation, he may go to the face, in order to see if 
there be any thing there to confirm his suspicions. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I do not think this a common practice ; nor would it 
be with any degree of probability adopted universally, 
while the physiognomical system is more difficult to 
understand than the other. I remember one instance in 
particular where physiognomy led me to search for a par- 
ticular conformation. The subject was a young lady, 
whose placidity of countenance, indicating a resignedness 
of purpose, a meekness and humility of disposition, and 
a sombre though tfuln ess, as if bent upon some great and 
glorious object, awakened my suspicions of their being a 



204 COLLOQUY X. 

strong development of the organs of Benevolence, Venera- 
tion, Hope, Conscientiousness, and Firmness. These sus- 
picions were realized. The religion of this young person 
was most strongly marked ; her kindness and sympathy, 
her reverence and profound respect for the Deity, her 
faith in all the Christian's promises, her scrupulous and 
rigid adherence to justice, her resolution to conform to 
every act of obedience required by her Creator, so far as 
fallen nature would admit of it, were exemplified in her. 
Veneration was the fullest developed of all the organs : 
it rose to a height above the surrounding level. But I 
have seen the existence of this organ confirmed in a very 
decided manner in many respects. One, in particular, I 
will name. The brain of a soldier, with religious per- 
suasions amounting to an enthusiasm bordering on 
mania, was examined by myself and a surgeon after his 
death. The organ of Veneration presented traces of vas- 
cular disorder, and had grown so prominently as to press 
against the skull, and reduce it to a degree of thinness as 
scarcely to be said to form a protection. The cup-like 
depression was filled by the protuberant portion of brain, 
presenting irregularities corresponding with those of the 
organ itself. 

STEWART. 

This seems to imply that an organ may be large with- 
out any external sign of it. The external surface of the 
skull may hence be even while the internal is not, and 
you cannot possibly discover it. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This is evident; and here arises another difficulty 
which phrenologists cannot surmount, and which will 



COLLOQUY X. 205 

ever be one insuperable impediment to the formation of 
a perfect system. 

STEWART. 

It is quite certain that veneration is an inherent dis- 
position of the mind ; at least, that there is a faculty in 
man which teaches him to respect and reverence objects 
external to himself — to venerate a presiding Deity. The 
tendency is universal, evident in all men to a given 
extent. This is natural religion, so called; and that 
religion by which he who has not had the advantage of 
Scripture and Christianity, shall be judged at that day 
when all men shall be brought before God to receive their 
final sentence ! Death, or life eternal ! Not absolute death, 
but that death which is appointed for the lukewarm 
religionist, who thinks that the road to Paradise is to be 
reached by outward ceremonies and professions — who 
believes that life eternal, which is unlimited happiness, 
can be gained without self-denial, without charity, 
without love, and the exercise of all those Christian 
graces mentioned in the New Testament, and absolutelv 
required by Jehovah for him to perform. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

We may enlarge upon this topic with propriety ; but 
if the energetic appeals of the Scripture and the pulpit 
fail to convince, it is certain any observations from us 
will not avail. We were alluding just now to the fea- 
tures as an index of the mind. Of these the eye is the 
most correct and faithful representative. All the exciting 
and depressing passions of the mind are expressed, more 
or less faithfully, by this organ. Not all the touches of 
a Titian, nor the genius of a Rembrandt, could ever 
portray that natural language— those indescribable and 



206 COLLOQUY X. 

endless features which it assumes. In a generous, noble, 
virtuous, and intellectual mind it gives an elevated bear- 
ing to the character, replete with all the sublimer indi- 
cations of an immortal spirit, radiant with all the finer 
qualities of the human heart. Its powers are unlimited ; 
now mellowed into love, now into the softness of bene- 
volence and compassion. We trace in it the fiery warn- 
ings of the intellect. We know what it is under jealousy, 
revenge, and malice — under grief, despair, and anguish. 
Without its expressions the artist would fail to give us a 
correct likeness of the individual he portrays ; and some 
of our first orators have been particularly mindful of the 
influence conveyed to their hearers by the proper manage- 
ment of this organ. It may be made a successful auxiliary 
in giving dignity, solemnity, and general effect to their 
speeches. Cicero, great in his immortal honours as an 
orator, never lost sight of the remarkable power of the eye. 
He enforced the necessity of its being so managed as to 
convey the meaning, the feelings of the soul. He knew 
its capabilities to express desire and emotion, and to move 
the feelings of the audience. He forgot not that it was 
scarcely less expressive than language itself in all its 
multifarious tones and intonations. It is said of Roscius 
that he could convey as much meaning by the eye as by 
words, when the deeper movements of the mind had to 
be represented. Whoever saw a Siddons in some of her 
most affecting scenes, will never forget her eye, as per- 
sonifying the feelings of the actor. In no place was it 
more possible to behold the effects of this expressive 
organ, than in the theatre before its decline. There, in 
all their height, we saw the solemn mockery of grandeur, 
the listlessness of exhausted passion, the dread magnifi- 
cence of woe — there we heard the fearful outcries of 
revenge, the evil forebodings of disappointed ambition, 



COLLOQUY X. 207 

the pusillanimity of a conscience-stricken victim, strug- 
gling with passions, and displaying them in look — there 
every mental chord was touched, and the picture of the 
mind exhibited, the delusion of which was scarcely recti- 
fied by the reason, and which, though long by-gone, 
will never be erased from the memory, or blotted from 
the recollection. The eye would sympathize in all these 
scenes, giving them life, and vigour, and truth. Lady 
Macbeth's eye ! who can forget it whilst the name of 
Siddons stands on the page of history ? — an eye indicative 
of the impulses of a mind worked up to the highest 
pitch of passion, in all the subtilties of a spirit marked 
only for another and evil world, where craft and stratagem 
take the place of frankness and sincerity, and revenge 
and distrust of innocence and beneficence. Siddons's 
imagination made a start into reality, and created in look 
the very being intended by Shakspeare. 

STEWART. 

So far, then, the eye may afford much assistance to 
the phrenologist in predicating character, in forming his 
notions of the ruling tendencies of the mind. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I grant it; nor would any persuasion convince me 
that a phrenologist would lose sight of this expressive 
feature, if he were, at the same time, a physiognomist ; 
and yet I believe that he seldom seeks such aid, simply 
because of the insufficiency of his knowledge in that 
department. 

STEWART. 

You alluded just now to a depression in the skull 
from the pressure of the brain — the organ of Veneration. 



208 



COLLOQUY X. 



There is a serious objection made by the sceptical party, 
that " neither high eminences nor sudden depressions" of 
the brain are so general as to allow of any one judging by 
these circumstances of the prevailing inclinations of the 
mind. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is not from protuberances of single organs, or 
depressions of others, that phrenologists think of judging. 
It is by the general conformation of the head, being 
assisted, meantime, by any irregularity which might 
happen to be present, and which is so, more or less, in 
almost every head. The antiphrenologist certainly will 
not affirm that the brains of all men are alike — the same 
in shape ; he will not pretend to dispute that particular 
parts of the brain are larger in one person than in 
another, without, indeed, their brains, taken in the 
whole, being different in size ; nor can he deny what all 
generations of men seem to have admitted, and what 
experience proves to be true, that a high and expanded 
forehead is usually indicative of talent. Although there 
are instances out of number of isolated parts of the brain 
being prominent, higher than the surrounding level — 
parts, I may say, which, according to phrenology, com- 
prise organs, yet the phrenologist does not, as I have just 
intimated, trust so much to this as he does to the relative 
size of particular parts of the brain, whether they em- 
brace a lobe, or only portions of a lobe. It is not so 
often that a single organ is either elevated or depressed 
as that a series of organs, its immediate neighbours, are 
so. We seldom find an organ large, the organ of Colour 
for example, without those in the immediate vicinity, 
those contained in the line of brain immediately behind 
the superciliary ridge, or eyebrow, being also large. In 



COLLOQUY X. 209 

this case, not only Colour, but every other organ included 
in this augmentation of brain, would be rendered more 
powerful and active. 

STEWART. 

It has been said that phrenologists cannot shew that 
the brain moulds the skull. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

If a skull were never known to exist without a 
brain ; and if, while the skull is only a protection for 
the brain, there would be no use in its being different 
in size and shape from that organ; and if, moreover, 
the skull grows only in proportion as that grows, 
and recedes — when, at least, it has not become firm, 
thick, and compact by age, in its internal table* — with 
the brain, in case of its decreasing in size, which has 
been known to take place in youth, and proved to be the 
case in old age ; and if, withal, the brain be never found 
separated from the internal table, the presumptive evi- 
dence is, that the skull is consequently the true repre- 
sentative of the brain in its size and shape. When the 
two layers are separated, and not parallel, which is very 
rarely so to any extent, even then the internal layer is in 
conformity with the brain. A friend of Spurzheim once 
informed me that the great phrenologist had been desired 
to examine the head of a person whose character was so 
opposite to that which the organization indicated, as to 
leave a doubt in his mind as to the truth of his science. 
The person dying shortly afterwards, permission was 
given to Spurzheim to inspect the brain, when, to his 

* The skull is composed of two tables ; the inner is much 
thinner than the outer. 



210 COLLOQUY X. 

great surprise, the internal table was separated from the 
external in one part sufficiently wide to allow of the 
fingers being introduced into the unoccupied space. This 
irregularity accounted for the singularity of the person's 
character, and confirmed, rather than not, the truth of 
phrenology. 

STEWART. 
Is not the parting of the layers a frequent occurrence ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Certainly not. If it were, every idea of applying the 
science would be useless, and, in fact, unreasonable. In 
one part of the skull there is always a separation, more or 
less extensive, between the two tables ; this is near the 
eyebrows, immediately above the bridge of the nose. The 
space is called the frontal sinus; and as its size varies in 
different individuals, without it being possible to judge, 
with any degree of accuracy, when it is large and when 
small ; and as its size interferes considerably with the 
volume of brain behind, our notions with respect to that 
volume are necessarily often too vague to allow of our 
ascertaining the capacity of the parts which it involves. 
The truth of the theory yet suffers nothing by this ; and 
I am confident that the more we study the subject, 
numerous as the obstacles are which attend its application 
to any useful purposes, the more consistency we perceive 
in it. 



(211) 



COLLOQUY XI. 



STEWART. 



If the mental differences in individual members of 
society are attributable to dissimilarities in physical 
development, I should feel a curiosity, laudable you will, 
perhaps, say, in tracing the differences of nations to the 
same circumstance. Setting aside the views of other 
men, ancient and modern, on the causes of such distinc- 
tions ; rejecting, on this occasion, the opinions of Kaimes, 
Helvetius, Gibbon, Cuvier, and a host of others, it would 
be gratifying to know how much the inconceivably 
numerous diversities in nations depend on the formation 
of the brain. That the shape of the skull of each nation 
has something manifestly characteristic in it there is no 
doubt ; but, admitting the reciprocity between the brain 
and mind, I think it difficult to decide whether this pecu- 
liarity of development may not be owing as much to 
external circumstances operating on the mind from with- 
out, as to the economy of the brain itself. May not, 
think you, the national peculiarities of a people, such as 
their government, their habits, their customs, their 
religion, &c, be as much the cause as the effect of the 
physical varieties of the brain, ceding the fact that the 
mind and brain operate upon and influence each other ? 
Would you say, for instance, that the followers of the 
f 2 



212 COLLOQUY XI. 

Crescent had an organ of Veneration peculiarly consti- 
tuted ? or that governments founded upon different prin- 
ciples were owing to different organizations of the nations 
by whom they are formed ? For my own part, I have 
ever considered external circumstances to have unlimited 
authority in determining the bias of the mind, whatever 
it be. I also believe, meantime, that there are peculiar 
physical conformations which may be characteristic, in 
some degree, of the prevailing habits, thoughts, and feel- 
ings of minds. We have only to witness how much 
external circumstances have decided or determined the 
fate of Greece, to be convinced of the influence they 
have upon a nation. The Hellenists have no longer the 
sublime and elevated philosophy of their forefathers. The 
cords of Moslem have long bound them in subserviency 
and ignorance ; Ottoman despotism crushed, as it were, 
all virtue out of them. Her national strength has been 
broken down, and in its stead supplied national imbe- 
cility ; and we know that tyranny and oppression occa- 
sioned it. Greece is now, it is true, beginning to rouse 
herself from her lethargy with all the majesty of a lion 
rising from his slumbers. Heroism, and wisdom, and 
power are now returning to her shores ; and the blot that 
has so long obscured her brightness, about to be at least 
partially removed. My philanthropy extends to the hope 
and belief that the restoration of long-lost Greece will be 
speedily effected, and that she may possess her wisdom 
without her vice. She is a kind of Alma Mater, whose 
interests all philanthropists are willing to see maintained. 
I care not what may be the cause of her recovery; though, 
for the sake of phrenology, I hope it will be proved to 
consist in the strength of the national mind, preserved by 
the development of the brain having been, like the noble 
animal I have just named, sleeping only to awake. 



COLLOQUY XI. 213 



PHRENOLOGIST. 



I would reply to your remarks in respect to Greece, * 
in the classical and beautiful words of Mr. Paterson, 
which have just fallen in ray way : — " May Heaven 
prosper the omen, and speed the expected time, of which 
hope is fain to prophesy — the time when the eye of 
Greece, so long extinguished, shall be rekindled in its 
ancient lustre — when the mother of arts, so long for- 
saken, shall see her far-scattered children hastening back 
to her embrace — the time when, within Athenian walls, 
another Alcaeus shall in peaceful festival wreath the 
tyrannicidal sword with myrtle— when another JEschylus, 
resting from victorious battle, shall sing the waters of 
Salamis again consecrated by the triumph of the free — 
when a new Demosthenes shall swear by another Mara- 
thon — when Philosophy shall muse once more among the 
olive-groves of Academe, and Art enshrine herself upon 
her own Acropolis — and when, more happy than of old, 
Liberty, no longer the confederate of Licence, shall main- 
tain inviolable the harmony of her balanced powers, and 
Religion, purified from superstition, shall adore, in spirit 
and in truth, the now not unknown God I" Before I can 
answer the former part of your enquiry, it seems neces- 
sary that we should understand, in part, what the natural 
state of man is. Various have been the speculations on 
this matter. Some persons suppose that after the fall all 
men degenerated, a life of barbarism having succeeded to 
civilization, and that by some wonderful change — some 
revolution in the nature of things, of the character of 
which they know nothing, a certain portion of mankind 
has now become civilized. Of the antediluvian world 
we are, in a manner, completely ignorant, and every 



214 COLLOQUY XI. 

statement made relative to the condition of man at that 
epoch as to the extent of either civilized or savage life, 
must be altogether speculative. Noah and his family, 
the remnants of that world, were certainly civilized ; and 
although the others were destroyed on account of sin, it 
does not follow that they were barbarians. Indeed, it 
was scarcely possible that the vengeance of the Deity 
should have visited, so tremendously, a savage people, 
who, in consequence of the few talents they possessed, 
could hardly have been responsible, and therefore not 
guilty subjects. It is true we have not so superficial 
a knowledge of the postdiluvian world. From its tra- 
ditions, few as they are, we can judge of the fall, and 
progress, and rise of successive and individual nations ; 
but still not with sufficient accuracy to say whether there be 
any civilized people now existing whose progenitors have 
preserved, without interruption, the condition of Noah 
and his family. It is absurd to speak of the rise as 
though all men were once barbarians. We know that 
some have risen to civilization after having degenerated, 
and that to the highest state ; such, for instance, has been 
the case with the Egyptians. 



STEWART. 

You know but little of the vicissitudes which time 
and circumstances have produced in the human family in 
its almost countless divisions. You know not the extent 
in which barbarism has existed, nor that to which 
civilization has yet been carried ; and it is presumptuous 
to affirm that any people whom we know to have risen 
from the lower to the higher condition, to have been the 
first to attain civilization after the degeneration which 
must have befallen them subsequently to the dispersion 



COLLOQUY XI. 



215 



at Babel. The most intellectual and nourishing people 
might have been swept away, leaving no monument 
behind whereby we may judge of their having ever 
existed; and perceiving, as the traveller does in the 
eastern world, distinct tokens and wrecks in the form of 
architectural and sculptural remains, of an intelligent, a 
highly cultivated people, hardly known to us as such 
either by tradition or history except by these tokens, it 
is not improbable that those who have thus sunk into 
oblivion, might have been at least as great as any other, 
their manuscripts, and every proof of their proficiency in 
science, in arts, and in arms being destroyed and lost to 
mankind. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Besides, the recent discoveries of geologists have 
taught us that the world is more ancient than was 
anticipated ; and though they have gone rather to prove 
that the former periods were not occupied by man, they 
leave an uncertainty about the length of time man has 
existed. The Mosaic account is liable to different inter- 
pretations ; and man may hence be a much more ancient 
inhabitant than is supposed, and the changes and varieties 
to which he has been subject, greater in consequence. 

STEWART. 

Be this as it may, it is rational to conceive that, when 
the Deity held more especial and audible communion 
with man on earth, which he did even at the time of 
Moses, man was rich in knowledge — that he then pre- 
served as much, and most likely more, of the original 
stamp of the image of that Deity than he does now, how- 
ever civilized and however enlightened. We have ample 



216 



COLLOQUY XI. 



proofs of civilization being very ancient in the accounts of 
Egypt, in Greek and Roman literature, without men-* 
tioning any thing of Babel, of Nineveh, of Babylon, of 
Petra, and other places ; and though the people of these 
latter cities might not have left any remains of literature 
and science, like the early Greeks and Romans, there 
are still sufficient indications in the ruins of their once 
magnificent buildings, of their having been in a high state 
of civilization ; and although there is every reason to 
suppose we have not succeeded in obtaining every proof 
of the great degree of civilization that prevailed in ancient 
days among mankind, sufficient manuscripts have been 
preserved and disinterred from the ruins of monastic 
and other institutions, to assure us that knowledge and 
learning, more universal as, in all probability, they are 
now, do not exist in any given few to a fuller extent than 
they did then. But it was not until many centuries had 
passed away after the destruction of Roman and Grecian 
splendour — not till the sun of civilization again dawned 
upon the city and the land — not till that despotism and 
comparative ignorance and barbarism which for so many 
centuries enslaved the Roman and the Greek, and which 
took the place of all that distinguished their mighty plans, 
had been partly overcome, that these proofs became 
manifest — that these manuscripts, which are now idolized 
by all civilized nations, were found and disinterred. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

Writers in all ages have deemed the savage state the 
natural state of human nature. The least reflection will 
prove to us that it is not so. Were the savage life the 
state of nature, it would be unnatural for man to be 
civilized ; and civilization being unnatural, and the result^ 



COLLOQUY XI. 217 

as it needs must be in such a case, of the infringement of 
the natural laws, would be a crime, because we cannot 
suppose that the laws of God, which, being natural, are 
good, can be broken, or disobeyed, or infringed, without 
crime attaching itself to the transgressor. Besides, the 
natural state being the most perfect state, and exactly 
in accordance with the institutions and designs of the 
Creator, the most desirable condition, both for time and 
eternity, would be savage. God is a just God, and he 
could not punish those who departed not from that con- 
dition in which he intended them to live ; and the state of 
nature must be that condition, and vice versa. Added to 
this, we ought not to forget that man is a degenerate 
animal. Now the original condition, that from which 
man has degenerated, is the natural condition. Ere bar- 
barism prevailed, a small human family, from whence all 
of us have descended, lived, if not in holiness, at least in 
civilization. They were, doubtless, as living with, or 
immediately after our first parents, who were civilized, 
and possessed of that knowledge in which they were 
created, acquainted, as far as it was then necessary, with 
arts, and sciences, and agriculture. This they acquired, 
in part at all events, directly or indirectly, from Adam ; 
and it could not have been lost for many years, if, indeed, 
it ever was, except among a scattered few, who might 
have degenerated from causes similar to those which pro- 
duced degeneration in the descendants of Noah. I say 
the knowledge which distinguished our first parents is 
not lost, in so far as we, who are civilized, must still 
retain it, greatly modified no doubt, and much altered 
in character, since neither commerce, nor arts, nor 
science became necessary in those days, except in a very 
limited degree; besides this, we are under a new dis- 
pensation. The knowledge which Adam possessed must 



218 COLLOQUY XI. 

have been perfect for the duties and functions he had to 
perform, and equal to every thing that was required of 
him. We have no kind of reason to suppose that, though 
he fell, he lost the knowledge, which is not exactly 
holiness, he naturally possessed. The commission of evil 
had no effect, I imagine, on the endowments of mind, 
any farther than it touched the relation between man and 
the world, and that subsisting between God and man in 
regard to holiness. The exercise of a free purpose, con- 
trary to express command, did not then, I conceive, 
annihilate that power by which man is free, nor so much 
as that by which he may still preserve himself far above 
the level of the most sagacious brute, as a being of know- 
ledge, reason, and morality. 

STEWART. 

Of the manner man first became degenerate we can- 
not possibly form any idea, unless we ascribe it to cir- 
cumstances such as I have mentioned : we doubt not, 
however, that sin was the first cause, this producing 
varieties in disposition and character, the will being then 
perverted and disaffected. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is well we should rest assured that, if the 
savage be a degenerate being, he has departed from a 
state which, from its originality, must have been the 
most natural. There is no doubt of savage life being a 
degenerate state of existence ; and if so, though civiliza- 
tion is brought about by art, can we say that the state from 
which the savage has degenerated was not civilization, and 
that civilization is, if unnatural, at least not the most 
original ? But what was the original state of man if 



COLLOQUY XI. 219 

not natural ? Was it unnatural ? But man has so tram- 
pled upon his nature, that we know not where to look for 
it, or in what to make it consist — so debased, indeed, as 
to render even the power of art necessary to civili- 
zation. Man is a mystery, rendered so by sin, by free 
will. Few human creatures, if any, it is said, could 
raise themselves above the level of the savage had they 
not the advantages of civilized society, and civilized habits 
and manners. I certainly know not whether there be an 
instance on record of a savage tribe becoming civilized 
independently of an intermixture with civilized persons: 
this, some persons may contend, is a proof of this con- 
dition being natural, since every individual who attains 
the knowledge of the civilized, has attained it by artificial 
management of some kind. We would scarcely say that 
the knowledge is natural, still less that it is intuitive ; 
but the power to attain is natural, the tendency of that 
power being yet subject to the will. If, in fact, it were 
natural, then, I imagine, all would be civilized, as I can- 
not conceive of any thing existing in an unnatural state 
more than what a perverted will at least may occasion. 
If we except the freedom of the will — the innate ability 
of the mind to act propitiously, though it may not be 
called into existence, the permanency, immutability, and 
universality of the means favourable to progression, we 
know not what the natural state is. We certainly shall 
never be able to understand what it is, while so much 
depends on free agency — so much on that principle in 
every man which is by nature improvable — so much on 
revelation. Intuitive knowledge is not natural, and, 
therefore, if man attain knowledge, it must be progres- 
sively ; and as every sane person can attain, and does so 
by degrees from childhood to old age, the power to 
improve must be natural, subject in some degree to the 



220 



COLLOQUY XI. 



option of its possessor; otherwise every person would 
improve to the fullest extent. It is natural for man to 
improve so far, even independently of his free agency, as 
to be able to provide for such contingencies of life as are 
necessary to the support of the individual, and likewise 
so far as to have conviction of good and evil, and of a 
Supreme Being. " It will, perhaps, have occurred to the 
reader," says a cotemporary journal, " that the oldest his- 
torical records represent mankind as originally existing in 
a state far superior to that of our supposed savages. The 
Book of Genesis describes man as not having been, like 
the brutes, created, and then left to provide for himself 
by his own innate bodily and mental faculties; but as 
having received, in the first instance, immediate Divine 
instruction and communications. And so early, accord- 
ing to this account, was the division of labour, that of 
the first two men who were born of woman, the one was 
a keeper of cattle, and the other a tiller of the ground/' 
It certainly was never designed by the Creator that man 
should live in an uncivilized condition ; and there is no 
doubt that civilization, however artificial it may be, is the 
most original, the most desirable, the most in accordance 
with the intention and wish and ordination of God, and 
shall I not say, the most natural ? 



STEWART. 
Although we are not acquainted with any people who 
have emanated from a state of barbarism by their own 
internal resources, independently of foreign means, such 
as intermixture with civilized people, it does not follow, 
I apprehend, that it has never been the case, and never can 
be. The most complete races of savages, who are inured 
to certain habits, and certain means of obtaining food, the 
obtainment of which requires no invention of other than 



COLLOQUY XI. 221 

the simplest implements — who engage in no commerce by 
which to unite themselves to other and distant nations, 
and no agriculture nor manufacture to call forth their 
powers, and who feel happy and envious of no one in 
this condition, because they contemplate not, for want of 
proof and example, the benefits of another mode of life, 
may never be raised to a higher state than what they now 
enjoy. This sort of contentment from ignorance, unmixed 
with a spirit of emulation, and in most cases, even rivalry, 
is prejudicial to their progress and interests. But other 
races, a little further advanced, who till the ground, and 
sow and reap, yet still without commerce, may, from the 
very nature of agriculture, sooner or later progress, and 
become a commercial, and then a civilized people. That 
the savage, even the most complete, may be civilized, 
none can doubt, as there are instances on record of the 
fact. There is no positive incapacity where means exist 
to call forth their mind. It is the fixedness of their 
habits, produced by custom and prejudice, and the want of 
example and religion, which we must regard as the causes 
of the lowest savage not improving. A civilized man of 
the present day may soar above ordinary minds ; but he 
is stimulated in general by the circumstances of others 
having run before him, and of having trod in the path 
to a considerable extent which he desires to pursue ; 
but this kind of stimulus the savage is a stranger to. He 
would be stimulated in all probability had he the example. 
As there are, occasionally, among the civilized precocious 
geniuses, who have even in youth, and before they have 
either read or heard of that to which the bent of their 
minds is directed, given proof of superior powers of 
intellect, and manifested them as if by impulse, and 
that in the highest sciences and arts as if by intuition, 
so may there be individuals among the savage race, 



222 COLLOQUY XI. 

although not equally precocious, in consequence of not 
being born of parents so far advanced, who are capable, 
by a similar kind of instinctive impulse, of raising them- 
selves above their brethren : and as from this precocity on 
the part of the civilized man, there may arise some new 
invention and new discovery, advancing him still farther 
in science and civilization, so on the part of the pre- 
cocious savage may something be invented and discovered, 
although not of so momentous a character, proving ulti- 
mately profitable to those around him, and acting as the 
means of raising that nation to civilization. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

We may take another example as illustrated by a 
cotemporary writer, and say, " One man, it is supposed, 
having acquired more skill than his neighbour," alluding 
to the savage life, " in the making of bows and arrows, 
or darts, would find it useful, both for them and for him- 
self, to work chiefly at this manufacture, and to exchange 
these implements for the food procured by others, 
instead of employing himself in the pursuit of game. 
Another, from a like cause, would occupy himself wholly 
in the building of huts or of canoes ; another, in preparing 
of skins for clothing, &c. And the division of labour 
having thus begun, the benefits of it would be so evident, 
that it would rapidly be extended, and would lead each 
person to introduce improvements into the art to which 
he would have chiefly directed his attention. Those who 
studied the haunts and the habits of certain kinds of 
wild animals, and had made a trade of supplying the 
community with them, would be led to tame such species 
as were adapted for it, in order to secure a supply of pro- 
visons when the chace might prove insufficient. Those 



COLLOQUY XI. 223 

who had especially studied the places of growth, and times 
of ripening, of such wild fruits, or other vegetable pro- 
ductions as were in request, would be induced to obtain a 
readier supply by cultivating them in suitable spots. 
And thus, the society being divided into husbandmen, 
shepherds, and artificers of various kinds, exchanging the 
produce of their various labours, would advance with 
more or less steadiness and rapidity towards the higher 
stages' of civilization." This kind of progress is by no 
means impossible, and we cannot say^ seeing that nations 
once savage have become civilized, that civilization has 
not arisen thus step by step; and we could hardly venture 
to pronounce a savage people incapable of it, however 
complete their state might now be. 



STEWART. 

Among the reasons which continue to preserve savages 
in the condition they live, keeping them from rising, their 
ignorance of letters is one of the greatest. They possess 
no traditional, no historical information, except what is 
revealed orally from father to son ; which we can easily 
conceive is often forgotten, and likewise very trifling — no 
more, indeed, than what may be deemed essential to their 
mode of life, their measure of happiness, or manner of 
worship. The occupations being such as not to call forth 
the powers of mind — their habits and manners being at 
variance with any degree of intellectual progress, they 
profit not by the events which transpire ; they trace not 
the connection between cause and effect, nor value the 
wonderful phenomena surrounding them, nor the mys- 
terious Providence which sustains them. It is only by 
tracing the connection between sublunary objects, so 
beautifully and methodically arranged, that the civilized 



224 COLLOQUY XI. 

man maintains so exalted a station. Before man can apply 
to his use, in an intellectual and moral point of view, 
those things which the earth may yield, he must know 
the connection which they bear to each other. The prin- 
ciple holds good in science as well as in arts, in commerce 
as well as in agriculture ; by letters " man reveals his 
thoughts to man, and generations unborn are enabled to 
hold converse with past ages." But, generally speaking, 
the savage has no hieroglyphics, or artificial signs of any 
kind, by which the thoughts, or discoveries, or laws of 
by-gone ages may be transmitted; and, hence, we can 
scarcely be surprised to find them existing in a savage 
state, as the very essence of civilization consists in the 
possession and use of memorials recording past experience 
of good and noble deeds, and of every information that 
may lead to the welfare, the happiness, and the wisdom 
of the present and future races of men who are capable 
of appreciating them. The old adage, that nothing is 
new under the sun, seems to be fully verified, few dis- 
coveries made by latter generations existing, which were 
not made in early times; and it is not improbable but 
that the very records we possess of discoveries supposed 
to have been made in the middle ages, are simply the 
records of men who profited by the experience of those 
who lived in earlier ages. There is, indeed, every reason 
to suppose, as was before intimated, that the immediate 
posterity of Adam at least were replete with all kinds of 
knowledge, except that of commerce and a few others, 
having derived it from a source necessarily highly gifted 
and endowed. But whatever might have been the early 
state of man, and how few soever the varieties were at one 
time, physically, intellectually, and morally, you now 
know, through the indefatigable exertions of naturalists 
and physiologists, what they are to a great extent. They 



COLLOQUY XI. 225 

have taught you how various the habits of life are in dif- 
ferent people, how multiplied nations have become, and 
what physical differences attend them. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

The whole body of the human race inhabiting the 
globe, north, east, west, and south, has been divided into 
five grand or great divisions, each division admitting of 
many and almost endless varieties. These are the Cau- 
casian, the Mongolian, the American, the Malay, and the 
^Ethiopian. This classification of differences in mankind 
was made by that ingenious Frenchman, Blumenbach, to 
whom the world is considerably indebted for great im- 
provements and discoveries in physiology. Every divi- 
sion except the Caucasian may be deemed barbarian, 
while each includes or presents a specific character dif- 
ferent from the rest, not only in intellect, morals, and 
religion, in habits, customs, governments, and laws, but 
in colour and bodily development, in which we see no 
greater contrast than in the brain. Each division includes 
tribes between whom there is often a strongly marked 
difference in some way or another ; but these tribes par- 
take more of the respective characters of each other in the 
whole, all points considered, than do the divisions them- 
selves. What has been said of the brute creation may be 
said of man — " The first glance discovers to us an infinite 
variety of forms; diversities so numerous, that the attempt 
to observe and register the whole seems almost hopeless. 
We find, however, that these forms, at first view so 
infinitely various, admit of being classed together, of being 
formed into groups, each of which is distinguished by 
certain essential characters. In the latter all the animals 



226 COLLOQUY XI. 

comprehended in each group agree, while they differ from 
each other in particulars of minor importance/' 



STEWART. 

To this division of Blumenbach there are manifest 
objections, and in a scheme so comprehensive, compli- 
cated, and intricate, it would scarcely be otherwise. But 
amid all the imperfections, we discover surpassing acute- 
ness of observation and accuracy of description. We 
behold a mind of great facility and uncommon vigour. 
No one before him supplied any classification so correct. 
So liable, however, are tribes to changes, physically, 
morally, and intellectually, and in all the attendant con- 
sequences, that no classification complete in one year 
would be so in the next. To the reader in general, the 
division of European, Asiatic, African, and American, 
may be easier understood ; but it is not so complete, so 
comprehensive, so satisfactory. The Mongolian division 
embraces most of the tribes in Asia, and some in North 
America ; the ^Ethiopian, most of the Africans and a few 
Asiatics ; the Malay, the inhabitants of the South Sea 
and Indian Archipelago Islands, and a portion of Asia ; 
the Americans, most of the tribes of both North and 
South America, more particularly those in the southern 
part of North America. So far the division of Blumen- 
bach is the most preferable, because some tribes in one 
quarter of the globe, say for instance Asia, partake par- 
ticularly of the general character of those belonging to 
another quarter. Although the Africans in the whole 
may be different from the Asiatics, there are tribes in one 
part of Africa which are not like the general body of 
Africans, but partake, in some particular way, of the 



COLLOQUY XI. 227 

general character of the Asiatics. The principle extends 
itself into every other division ; and thus each embraces 
tribes which inhabit more than one quarter of the 
globe. So far, then, as this system of the great French 
physiologist has a tendency to class one set of men, com- 
prehending, in the meantime, a great variety of tribes, 
partaking of similar qualities more identified, at least, 
than are the qualities of the different divisions, it is useful ; 
but imperceptible as are the gradations, independently of 
the revolutions which nations undergo from various cir- 
cumstances — much as one variety in its extreme must 
resemble another in its extreme, and different, withal, as 
are the tribes of each division, it may be concluded that a 
well-organized classification will ever have imperfections 
which it will be impossible to overcome. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

True. The great difficulty there is in collecting 
information in regard to the actual condition of distinct 
races and nations — the many changes that are occasioned 
by numerous circumstances in their aboriginal character — 
the difficulty, too, which presents itself in the way of 
making a distinguishing difference between races — the 
modifications of character, bodily and mental, produced 
even in the same aboriginal stock by their being trans- 
planted to different soils — together with the few specimens 
of the cranial development possessed by us of the several 
races of the different varieties, must ever throw obstacles 
in the way to our framing an unexceptionable classification. 
The difficulties attending the classification are multiplied 
in the Malay variety. But it is to be hoped that all diffi- 
culties will, in the lapse of time, cease, by the more 
universal amalgamation of the human family in a moral 
point of view. 

Q2 



228 COLLOQUY XI. 

STEWART. 

The increased interest now taken in the welfare of 
man by the civilized part — the great exertions now made 
to blot from the map of the world those degrading marks 
which have so long defaced it — the comparatively high- 
toned feeling now circulating itself through the world, 
and breaking down those delusive barriers which have 
from the earliest ages preserved, in a flourishing condition, 
such feelings as carefully exclude the dissemination of 
knowledge — and the spirit of improvement having, as 
though the goodness of Providence was now especially 
brooding over the face of the earth, infused itself through- 
out all nations, in a greater or less degree — we have 
reason to conclude that the naturalist, the physiologist, 
will be enabled, ere, at least, the time becomes far 
advanced, to see all varieties merge into one, and to 
recognise them for their greatness and goodness. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

So far as these qualities go, they are at present con- 
fined to the Caucasian races — the only civilized parts. 
According to Blumenbach, whose object, all through his 
researches and labours, has been to draw lines and differ- 
ences rather between the cerebral development than any 
other, the Caucasian variety is the primitive stock of 
mankind ; and there is no doubt, from the knowledge we 
gain of the original nature of man, that his character 
presented all the peculiarities which distinguish this 
variety. It is further believed that the primitive stock 
resided in the neighbourhood of Mount Caucasus. His- 
tory and tradition, imperfect as they are, afford us this 
information. We know that the part of the west of 



COLLOQUY XI. 229 

Asia about Caucasus was the part first peopled; and 
here remain still such a people as we should expect the 
earliest inhabitants to have been, and such as the Cauca- 
sian division, infinite as are its diversities, now is. The 
Georgians, who inhabit these regions, are distinguished 
for the beauty of their persons, their mental powers, and 
cerebral conformations. In acquirements they are inferior 
to many European nations, because they have not, from 
a multitude of external causes, the same advantages ; but 
they are classed under the Caucasian, or white division, 
and for physical development are surpassed by none of 
its varieties. 

STEWART. 

The ideas of Europeans, or rather the Caucasians, 
with respect to the beauty and symmetrical development 
of their persons, differ essentially from those entertained 
by the other divisions, who, generally, fancy the most 
grotesque forms, and the lowest order of development of 
the brain, to be the nearest allied to perfection. The 
Caucasian division is, beyond doubt, by far the most 
exalted among mankind ; the most beautiful in bodily 
proportions and colour ; the most perfect in intellect and 
morality, and the nearest akin to our first parents. Other 
varieties appear to have degenerated from you as the 
original stock. The Caucasians are characterized, nume- 
rous as are the races included in them, by three great anjl 
paramount features — a large brain, a small face situated 
immediately under it, and a mind which for capacity is 
unequalled. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

In the brain we find the two hemispheres largely 
developed ; the anterior lobe especially full — the middle 



230 COLLOQUY XI. 

wide and high — the posterior comparatively small. In the 
face are well-marked features, agreeable to the eye, and 
uniform in their proportions, the brain in the fore-part 
rising conspicuously and boldly over them, rather than 
behind them, as is the case in the lower varieties and the 
brute. In the mind we trace, as the organization would 
lead us to suspect, a powerful intellect, strong moral feel- 
ings, and comparatively exalted power of rising to the 
highest state of civilization and refinement, taking advan- 
tage of all those circumstances which alone can exalt man 
to that station which it was the first intention of the 
Deity he should fill as Lord of this lower creation. It 
appears, too, if we except some tribes which have ema- 
nated from barbarism, that this division has ever been 
characterized, more or less, for these particular pheno- 
mena, there being no memorial on record to prove that 
they ever existed in a state of savage life, which is the 
lot of dark-coloured men ; while there are instances of 
races now enrolled in the list of the Caucasian species, 
who at one time properly belonged to the Mongolian or 
some other division. There are some dark-coloured men, 
dark not by nature but by circumstances, at present 
belonging to one or the other of the lower divisions, who 
once claimed the privilege of being attached to the Cau- 
casian, there being no doubt that some races have sunk 
from a more or less exalted to the lowest condition ; but 
from what causes, they being so numerous and complex, 
does not exactly appear. It would seem, however, that 
the early Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, although once 
barbarians, presented, even in their barbarian condition, 
some semblance to the Caucasian character. From the 
earliest period of their civilization they were found with a 
well-developed brain, and some other traits of superiority, 
corporeal and mental. It is said the Egyptians were 



COLLOQUY XI. 231 

originally Ethiopians ; and there are evidences of their 
having been partly of this variety, but decidedly more of 
the Caucasian stamp. 

STEWART. 

To this variety we can easily trace the beginning of 
all the arts and sciences. From this have emanated, too, 
all that elegant literature, all that genius, religion, and 
civil government which give stability and exaltation to 
nations, and dignity to man : and these, be it recollected, 
sprang originally, crude and imperfect as they at first 
were, from those localities which lay in the immediate 
vicinity of Caucasus. And while I look upon man to 
have been, in his original state, of the Caucasian division, 
I conceive the lower orders to have descended from the 
higher, as plants which have degenerated from their 
parent stock under a great variety of circumstances. 
Art, science, arms, agriculture, and commerce, have 
formed part and parcel of the Caucasian division for 
centuries traceable to the earliest period ; but the progress 
of civilization has been so gradual and slow among some 
races now of that variety, that we hardly know at what 
period to date the beginning of their more exalted station, 
or when the light of civilization began to shine upon 
them. Portions of this variety have toiled under the 
burthen of foreign rule, under despotic and tyrannical 
governments, which are inimical to the advancement of 
mankind, and, at the same time, a sufficient cause of 
degeneration. The ill effects of bad governments are 
visible in every quarter. Until a government, unfavour- 
able to the development of national intellect, had overtaken 
the early Greeks and Romans, they flourished to such an 
extent as to give them an advantage in literature, arts, 
and science over the rest of the then known world. 



232 COLLOQUY XI. 

The earliest ages, however, in which the Caucasian 
varieties have existed, taking them, at least, generally 
speaking, boast of their superiority over the other varieties 
in religion, in worshipping the only true God. 'Tis true 
that the Grecian mythology, with its beautiful allegories 
and engrossing fables — that Mahomedanism, with its 
Koran, delusion, and iron-armed power — that Judaism, 
with its gross blindness and incredulity — and Heathanism, 
with its open idolatry and flagrant superstition, have 
been tolerated by Caucasians — even philosophers, poets, 
and legislators. ' Tis equally true, that every species of 
profaneness and impiety found its way into the different 
philosophical schools of Greece and Rome, where genius 
and learning flourished, never to die ; and that the 
Egyptians, with all their boasted wisdom and philosophy, 
their love of science, and enthusiasm in the arts, were 
led astray by the most impious and superstitious imagin- 
ings. 'Tis true, that the sun never rose upon Italy, 
when the seat of wisdom and power, without enclosing 
millions in the vast expanse of her influence bending 
before unknown Gods. But all these people, who appeared 
for a period to breathe, as it were, the air of genius, and 
who were powerful in all kinds of knowledge, except the 
most pure and holy, have been visited by a kind of 
mental pestilence, and consequent degeneration. So soon, 
however, as they could recover themselves from the panic 
which assailed them, imbibing more auspicious notions of 
religion, and recovering some portion of the tone of their 
former government, there sprang up from among them 
men of unparalleled genius, whose memories will ever 
live in the minds of all civilized people; but there is not 
that patriotic warmth, nor that liberty of speech, nor 
that mighty empire of mind, which were manifested in 
more ancient times by Cicero, Demosthenes, and many 



COLLOQUY XI. 233 

others. Over the black the European possesses great 
advantage from his revealed religion ; from being born in 
a country where Christian philanthropy is powerfully 
abroad, and on which the sun of civilization never sets ; 
and wherever you see this sun, and move in the air of a 
philanthropic clime, so invariably do you find the organ- 
ization of man more beautiful. Educated in religious 
principles, taught to revere the counsels of God, and led, 
through these things, and the other genial influences 
pervading the land, to contemplate the works and designs 
of the Father of man, your minds are necessarily enlarged, 
your understandings cultivated, and, with a host of other 
means, all directed and calculated to give instruction, and 
exalt the national character, it would be strange, indeed, 
if the savage, deprived of all these advantages, equalled 
\ ourselves. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

One of the reasons the Caucasians have preserved 
themselves as a superior people, is the possession of a 
good national organization, which is capable, more or less, 
of preserving dignity of character. If we compare the 
ancient Germans with the ancient people of the Mongo- 
lian or other variety, the difference will be evident, and 
the superiority of the Caucasian established from the 
earliest period. But considering the advantages which 
the different Caucasian races possess, their organization, 
government, religion, climate, and civilization generally, 
being all favourable to the development of the higher 
powers of human nature, we may conclude that the 
Caucasian mind, exquisite as it is, and surpassed by 
none, has not yet reached its acme : civilization is still 
progressing — useful knowledge of every description is 
becoming more universal— improvements are daily made 



234 COLLOQUY XI. 

in almost every art, and sciences are increasing in interest 
and utility. This variety includes, says Mr. Lawrence, all 
" the ancient and modern Europeans, except the Lap- 
landers and the rest of the Finnish race ; the former and 
present inhabitants of Western Asia, as far as the River 
Ob, the Caspian Sea, and the Ganges — that is, the Assy- 
rians, Medes, and Chaldeans; the Sarmatians, Scythians, 
and Parthians; the Philistines, Phoenicians, Jews, and 
the inhabitants of Syria generally ; the Tartars, properly 
so called ; the several tribes actually occupying the chain 
of Caucasus ; the Georgians, Circassians, Armenians ; the 
Turks, Persians, Arabians, Afghanns, and Hindoos of high 
caste ; the Northern Africans, including not only those 
north of the Great Desert, but even some tribes placed in 
more southern regions ; the Egyptians, Abyssinians, and 
Gaunches ; also the inhabitants of Tunis, Morocco, Tri- 
poli, and Algiers." Now, these races are, by no means, 
alike in mental ability, feeling, and cerebral organization, 
but are nearer akin to each other than to either of the 
other divisions. The differences and modifications of 
character in the Caucasian are greater than they are in 
any other, and there are evidently more numerous external 
causes in operation in the several parts occupied by this, 
than in the Malay, Mongolian, ^Ethiopian, or American. 
To them may we attribute the number of gradations and 
varieties which exists. Besides, the Caucasians are more 
likely to be influenced by circumstances, by reason of their 
civilization, and the greater diversities of their government 
and religion. The Europeans have been divided into three 
races; Dr. Pritchard speaks of them fully. They are 
called German, Celtic, and another including the Sarma- 
tian and Slavonic tribes. Between these races there is, 
agreeably to those historians who have written upon the 
subject, an evident difference; and it moreover appears that 



COLLOQUY XI. 235 

the different parts of Europe inhabited by these different 
races, have possessed the same description of people from 
the earliest period, even before the Christian era, if, atleast, 
we except a few slight mutations. These races are each 
of them very numerous. The first, which is always called 
the great German race, is confined to the central parts 
of Europe, including the ancient and modern Germans, 
Swedes, Danes, Norwegians, Icelanders, Saxons, and 
English, Caledonians or Pictae, and the Lowland Scotch 
" who have sprung from them ; " also the Vandals, Goths, 
and those persons who occupy the Low Countries, &c. 
The several tribes of this race, which are characterized, 
more particularly, for the light colour of their skin, eyes, 
and hair, are alike also in .physical development, as well 
as in mind, moral, animal, and intellectual. The simi- 
larity, moreover, between their habits, customs, laws, and, 
especially, language, is so great, as to leave no room to 
doubt of their being so identified in character as to consti- 
tute a distinct race. History concurs to shew that these 
tribes are merely varieties of one race. This race is known 
and characterized also by a sanguine constitution. The 
Celtic is found in the west of Europe, and includes the 
ancient Britons, Welsh, Scotch, Irish, Manks, and Bre- 
tons; the Spaniards, Portuguese, and French, ancient 
and modern ; also most of the Italians. This race has 
darker skin, hair, and eyes. The former has a brown tinge; 
the two latter are black. " The resemblance," says Dr. 
Pritchard, " of the Silures to the Iberi was noticed by 
Tacitus ; it is obvious to every observer in the present 
time ; nor is the observation peculiar to the Welsh — it 
holds good in all other Celtic nations." The other race, 
which appears to have no definite name, comprises the 
Sarmatian and Slavonic tribes or nations, which include 
the Poles, Russians, Croats, Slavons, Cossacks, Bohemians, 



236 COLLOQUY XI. 

Bulgarians, and those besides whose language is Slavonic. 
These have dark eyes, hair, and skin. The two former 
are not so dark as those of the Celts : the skin presents 
a similar hue. " He " (Dr. Pritchard), says Lawrence, 
" proceeds to shew from Diodorus Siculus, that the Sar- 
matians descended from the Medes, and were found on 
the banks of the Tanais seven hundred years before the 
Christian era : by the authority of Herodotus, that they 
occupied the country between the Tanais and the Borys- 
thenes when Darius Hystaspes invaded Syria ; and from 
Cluverius, that the coasts of the Baltic, and the banks 
of the Vistula, Prussia, and the country as far as the 
situation of the Finni and Venedi, were the ancient seats 
of the Sarmatians." These races, added to those of Asia 
and Africa, which present a similarity of character, men- 
tal and corporeal, constitute the Caucasian division. The 
people of either Asia or Africa who come under this 
division, likewise include different races ; and thus, in 
the Caucasians there are many races, each presenting a 
character nationally distinct. But, in some respect or 
another, more especially perhaps in cerebral conformation, 
they partake so much of the character of each other as 
to be acknowledged under one class, imperfect yet as 
the arrangement doubtless is. Mr. Turner thinks that 
" the Caucasian variety claims also the Persian Zoroaster, 
and the founders of the religion of Bramah, who, in the 
peninsula of India, had signalized themselves by great 
advances in art and science in the very remotest antiquity." 
Among the Caucasians there are great modifications of 
character, cerebral and mental. There are among them, 
but evidently as exceptions to what we should embrace 
under the Caucasian variety, the lowest organization with 
a corresponding intellect and moral feeling — an organiza- 
tion, an intellect, and a feeling not superior even to the 



COLLOQUY XI. 237 

Mongolian or ^Ethiopian. The baser feelings of man may 
be kept more in subjection in some parts of Europe, in 
consequence of restraint being more imperatively enforced 
by some European governments, by rigid and exact laws, 
when the character will outwardly assume a more respect- 
able aspect, though inwardly it may be equally vile, brutal, 
and sensual : and, withal, we perceive an organization no 
better than that of the Mongolian, and an organization, 
too, which has generally been neglected by parents, who 
have studiously avoided inculcating those precepts which 
ought to be instilled into the youthful mind, and which 
alone, the organization being indifferent, is capable of 
raising man above the level of the savage in feeling and 
intellect, who also is without either precept or organiza- 
tion, such, at least, as is necessary to the preservation of 
national dignity, and the blessings of civilization. 



( 238 ) 



COLLOQUY XII. 



The effects of the return of Spring have been frequently 
remarked, as well in relation to the human mind as to the 
animal and vegetable world. The reviving power of this 
season has been traced from the fields to the herbs that 
inhabit them, and from the lower classes of beings up to 
man. Gladness and joy are described as prevailing through 
universal nature, animating the low of the cattle, the 
carol of the birds, and the pipe of the shepherd. I know 
not if it be from a singular, or a censurable disposition, 
that I have often felt in my own mind something very 
different from this gaiety, supposed to be the inseparable 
attendant of the vernal scene. Amidst the returning 
verdure of the earth, the mildness of the air, and the 
serenity of the sky, I have found a still and quiet melan- 
choly take possession of my soul, which the beauty of 
the landscape, and the melody of the birds, rather soothed 
than overcame. Perhaps some sort of reason may be 
given why this kind of feeling should prevail over the 
senses, in those moments of deeper pensiveness to which 
every thinking mind is liable, more at this time of the 
year than at any other. Spring, as the renewal of verdure 
and of vegetation, becomes naturally the season of remem- 
brance. We are surrounded with objects, new only in 
their revival, but which we acknowledge as our acquaint- 



COLLOQUY XII. 239 

ance in the years that are past. Winter, which stopped 
the progression of nature, removed them from us for 
a while, and we meet, like friends long parted, with 
emotions rather of tenderness than of gaiety. This train 
of ideas once awaked, memory follows over a very exten- 
sive field ; and in such a disposition of mind, objects of 
cheerfulness and delight are, from those very qualities, 
the most adapted to inspire that milder sort of sadness 
which, in the language of a native bard, is " pleasant and 
mournful to the soul." They will inspire this, not only 
from the recollection of the past, but from the prospect 
of the future ; as an anxious parent, amidst the sportive 
gaiety of the child, often thinks of the cares of manhood 
and the sorrows of age. These effects will, at least, be 
commonly felt by persons who have lived long enough to 
see, and had reflection enough to observe, the vicissitudes 
of life. Even those who have never experienced severe 
calamities, will find, in the review of these years, a 
thousand instances of fallacious promises and disappointed 
hopes. The dream of childhood and the project of youth 
have vanished, to give place to sensations of a very different 
nature. In the peace and beauty of the rural scene which 
Spring first unfolds to us, we are apt to recall the former 
state with an exaggerated idea of its happiness, and to 
feel the present with increased satisfaction, and particu- 
larly if that scene were the one in which this state was 
passed. There is a silent chronicle of past hours in the 
inanimate things amidst which they have been spent, 
that gives us back the affections, the regrets, the senti- 
ments of our former days— that gives us back their joys 
without tumult, their griefs without poignancy, and pro- 
duces equally from both a pensive pleasure, which men 
who have retired from the world, or whom particular 
circumstances have somewhat estranged from it, will be 



240 COLLOQUY XII. 

peculiarly fond of indulging. Above all others, those 
objects which recall the years of our childhood, will have 
this tender effect upon the heart : they present to us 
afresh the blissful illusions of life, when Gaiety was on 
the wing undaunted by Care, and Hope smiled before us 
unchecked by Disappointment. The distance of the 
scene adds to our idea of its felicity, and increases the 
tenderness of its recollection : 'tis like the view of a 
landscape by moonshine; the distinctness of object is 
lost, but a mellow kind of dimness softens and unites the 
whole. 

But the pencil of memory stops not with the repre- 
sentation of ourselves ; it traces also the companions and 
friends of our early days, and marks the changes they 
have undergone. It is a dizzy sort of recollection to 
think over the names of our schoolfellows, and to con- 
sider how very few of them the ravage of accidents, and 
the sweep of time, have left within our reach. This, 
however, is less pointed than the reflection on the fate of 
those whom affinity or friendship linked to our side — 
whom distance of place, premature death, or (sometimes 
not a less painful consideration) estrangement of affec- 
tion, has disjoined from us for ever. I am not sure if 
the disposition to reflections of this sort be altogether a 
safe or a proper one. I am aware that, if too much 
indulged, or allowed to become habitual, it may dis- 
qualify the mind for the more active and bustling scenes of 
life, and unfit it for the enjoyments of ordinary society ; 
but, in a certain degree, I am persuaded it may be found 
useful. We are all of us too little inclined to look into 
our own minds — all apt to put too high a value on the 
things of this life. But a man, under the impression I 
have described, will be led to look into himself, and will 
see the vanity of setting his heart upon external enjoy- 






COLLOQUY XII. 241 

ment. He will feel nothing of that unsocial spirit which 
gloomy and ascetic asperities inspire ; but the gentle, and 
not unpleasing, melancholy that will be diffused over his 
soul, will fill it with a calm and sweet benevolence, will 
elevate him much above any mean or selfish passion. It 
will teach him to look upon the rest of the world as his 
brethren, travelling the same road, and subject to the 
like calamities with himself; it will prompt his wish to 
alleviate and assuage the bitterness of their sufferings, 
and extinguish in his heart every sentiment of malevo- 
lence or of envy. Amidst the tide of pleasure which 
flows on a mind of little sensibility there may be much 
social joy without any social affection ; but, in a heart of 
the mould I allude to above, though the joy may be less, 
there will, I believe, be more happiness and more virtue. 
It is rarely from the precepts of the moralist, or the 
mere sense of duty, that we acquire the virtues of gentle- 
ness, disinterestedness, benevolence, and humanity, The 
feelings must be won, as well as the reason convinced, 
before men change their conduct. To them the world 
addresses itself, and is heard; it offers pleasure to the 
present hour; and the promise of satisfaction in the 
future is too often preached in vain. But he who can feel 
that luxury of pensive tenderness, of which I have given 
some faint sketches, will not easily be won from the 
pride of virtue and the dignity of thought, to the inor- 
dinate gratifications of vice, or the intemperate amuse- 
ments of folly.* 



* These observations are gathered from the Edinburgh 
1 Mirror ;' but as they contain in every detail the sentiments of 
the reciter, who would have failed to record them in such simple 
and perspicuous language, he has had no scruple in quoting 
them. 

R 



242 COLLOQUY XII. 

But whatever may be our ideas of the past or the 
present, however enhanced the pleasure of memory is in 
the recollection of those scenes which attracted, and those 
pursuits which engaged our infantine and youthful years, 
and how much soever happiness may lie in the exercise 
of social feelings and Christianlike sentiments, there is 
a mixture of pain in all, a restlessness of mind, and an 
impatient looking forward to some future good which 
reason assures us will never be realized here, that makes 
us long and hope for that rest which another and a higher 
state is alone capable of procuring us. This is a season 
of pilgrimage, a land of fugitives and strangers, seeking 
their proper country, that to which they are bound ; and 
though they may meet with much by the way that shall 
for an hour or so dispel sadness and care, and take from 
them all thoughts of a better and a brighter world, they 
yet encounter enough to remind them of the toils they 
endure, of the vexations they experience, and, lastly, of 
the reservation of a state where no toil and vexation are. 
Bereft of the idea — of the possibility of our fugitive 
course of life terminating in death, to be succeeded by 
none more permanent, more enduring, more felicitous — 
to fancy ourselves in a foreign land, without a hope of 
gaining that which is in truth a home, a native settle- 
ment, is robbing us of that prophetic star on which in 
times of distress and danger we are willing to confide for 
safety. There is no death. The grave only takes us to 
another place — removes us from that of our pilgrimage. 
And this notion, founded most assuredly on Scripture, is 
yet the notion of savages, who never heard of this source 
of faith ; for one of a tribe of barbarians being found to 
endure the loss of a wife, or a child, with composure, 
was asked why he felt so little pain at the departure of 
one whom he should never see again, he replied, " Our 



COLLOQUY XII. 243 

separation is temporary ; we shall soon meet ; her eyes 
are sealed only to this world; they now see in another; 
she is not dead, but living." In truth, the soul can never 
die ; and there is evidently an innate consciousness of this 
fact. 

STEWART. 

This principle, as I said before, lives always — it must 
exist. When God breathed into man the breath of life, 
and gave unto him a living soul, he gave a spirit inde- 
pendently of the material and visible parts. The soul 
had not its origin in organization, but in the Deity him- 
self. It is a simple essence given by an indefinable Being, 
not created, but proceeding ; for it had its origin in God, 
being in His image, and derived, as it were, from Him. 
As belonging essentially to the Deity — as consisting of 
attributes which are really and virtually of the Deity, it 
can never die. The soul is, as it were, the offspring of 
God, though it has become degenerated and rebellious. 
It is a simple, active agent ; and if received back by its 
Author as his acknowledged own, there is an inheritance 
of incorruptible glory in reserve, prepared from the foun- 
dation of the world. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

To talk of annihilation under any form, to think there 
is any thing in existence subject to absolute destruction, 
which is the negation of being, as cold is the negation of 
heat, is folly. Of all things I should be most unwilling 
to conceive that the image of God, which the soul of man 
still is, can undergo destruction. I can easily conceive 
that it may have a mode of action different from the 
parent or original, but never that it will suffer annihila- 
r2 



244 COLLOQUY XII. 

tion. Without mentioning outward evidence, there is 
something within persuading me of immortality — a rest- 
less state of existence conscious of its indestructibility. 



STEWART. 

That restlessness is one sign of activity being its 
most essential concomitant ; a never-dying consciousness 
is its very essence. The object of the Deity was that this 
should form its most virtual feature. As such, it can 
never be dormant. It must not only live after the judg- 
ment — an awful period ! — but in the lapse of time 
between its separation from the body and that event. 
If, as a simple principle, it suffer absolute inactivity in 
this interval, which is tantamount to annihilation, it is 
very questionable whether it would not always remain so. 
This period of inactivity would, in some instances, occupy 
many thousand years. The sacred writers, in alluding 
to the resurrection, speak not of any resurrection of the 
soul, but merely of the body, as though these two things, 
spirit and body, were now to be reunited ; the latter 
being raised to meet the former, which had been long in 
readiness to receive it. If, indeed, any evidence were 
wanting of the soul being destined to live at all junctures, 
however critical, I am that evidence. I stand as the 
representative of a party, the party of departed spirits, 
waiting for the raising of our bodies, when the measure 
of our happiness will be full, our glory complete. It is 
far more reasonable, as well as more scriptural, to suppose 
the soul of man to be always conscious, always active, 
always living, than to be suspended in its action for an 
undefined period of time. The soul of Lazarus was in 
Abraham's bosom — that of Dives in torments ; and when 
Christ said to the penitent thief, " This day shalt thou be 



LK 



COLLOQUY XII. 245 

with me in Paradise/' a clear inference is conveyed that 
his soul was to exist antecedently to the judgment. The 
saints of this earth who have left their bodies, are living 
with Lazarus and Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They are 
of the family of God; and when the Son of God had 
gained his victory over sin, and the thief had cast off his 
earthly garments, they were received by this whole family 
in the vesture of righteousness : the former simply in a 
shadow of his glory — the latter as a pure and incorruptible 
spirit, the fulness of which will never fade, but increase 
in brightness and lustre. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Of all philosophy that is the weakest which throws a 
doubt on the immortality of that principle in man which 
instinctively looks forward to eternity, when a perverted 
reason is not in operation to subdue it. Many philoso- 
phers have attempted to reason away the idea of immor- 
tality — men, whose profound intellects should have taught 
them how to appreciate the inspired word, and to reckon 
upon death as a gain. Dry den truly says 

" Dim as the borrow' d beams of moon and stars 

" To lonely, weary, wandering travellers 

" Is reason to the soul : — and as on high 

" Those rolling fires discover but the sky, 

u Not light as here ; so reason's glimmering ray, 

" Was lent — not to assure our doubtful way, 

" But guide us upward to a better day. 

u And as those mighty tapers disappear 

" When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere, 

" So pale grows Reason at Religion's sight, — 

" So dies, — and so dissolves, — in supernatural light." 

The Scriptures speak of the insufficiency of reason. They 
utter a warning voice to every traveller, beseeching him 



246 COLLOQUY XII. 

to receive in humility and faith the mysteries of God and 
redemption, which no intellect can comprehend, rather 
than trust entirely to reason, the most dangerous quality 
of man when put in competition with revelation. 

STEWART. 

Reason, however, is not denied to man in another 
state — only its perverting purposes, its untoward inclina- 
tions. There the mathematician is solving his problems, 
and the astronomer his celestial mysteries. The sage of 
antiquity, as well as the learned modern, walks in his own 
peculiar path, that which he had struck out and pursued 
while in the flesh. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This is a delightful idea — that those lawful pursuits 
which engrossed the higher faculties of man during his 
terrestrial life, are the surest mediums of happiness in 
another. There, however, life becomes more pure, more 
unalloyed, more elevated, such as we cannot conceive in 
this mortal state. To think of meeting such philosophers 
as Plato, Newton, and Galileo, and poets like Homer, 
Shakspeare, and Milton, and moralists like Socrates, Me- 
lancthon, and Johnson, revelling in full luxuriance of 
thought, and bringing, in some measure, their sublime 
imaginings and profound reasonings to the level of the 
weaker apprehension, enhances, in a great degree, the 
idea one entertains of the bliss of a future state. All 
earthly enjoyments are transient and weak in comparison 
with the pleasures you enjoy. The poet, in referring to 
the things of earth, asks, 

M Ah ! what is Pleasure, but a bubble broke ? 
" And what is Time, but as a transient stream ? 

" And what is Hope — a spark o'erwhelm'd with smoke ? 
" And what Affection, but a troubled dream ? n 



1 



COLLOQUY XII. 247 



STEWART. 

I say not whom you would meet ; but be assured that 
he who cultivates his mind to the greatest advantage in 
philosophy, in morals, or in poetry, as well as in religion, 
enjoys in addition that which the mere religionist enjoys. 
Man carries his understanding and imagination with 
him ; and it would be folly to suppose that, because he 
had entered upon an eternal state, they were to sink or 
rise, with the view of being brought to one common 
standard. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

If it were not for the advantages which a noble and 
enlightened intellect would derive in eternity, I should 
be inclined to dispute its utility so far, in particular, as 
the happiness of the individual in possession of it may 
be concerned. If such high endowments of mind pre- 
vail without religion, they are apt to be turned to pur- 
poses on which some prohibition has been laid either by 
God, government, or the rules of society. More than 
this, they often lead to petulance, to contentions, to 
ambitions, and envyings, totally at variance with that 
sobriety of mind which lesser endowments ensure. If, 
again, they exist with religion, the wretched and deluded 
state of the world must be a subject of consideration 
that carries with it any thing but consolation to the 
human breast ; and the doubt and fears of such a mind 
in regard to the attainment of pardon from an offended 
God, are usually so strong as to render that assurance in 
which the weaker intellect reposes, and finds relief and 
comfort, of so fragile and problematical a texture, as to 
detract from the happiness it would otherwise enjoy. 



248 COLLOQUY XII. 



STEWART. 

In this you are perfectly right. Intellect, of itself, 
does not so much as lead to that probity which its own 
elevation ought to ensure. Yet we could not, on peril of 
being deemed lax in our opinions and views, have it sup- 
posed that high endowments are undesirable. They should 
be coveted if only for the advantages which a proper direc- 
tion of them may lead to : they should be prized and 
appreciated when possessed, as talents entrusted to man 
for the advancement of some objects connected with the 
economy of Divine grace. Whatever relates to mind 
must excite a permanent interest. It was observed by 
Hume, " that reputation founded on philosophy and 
science passes away with the revolutions of human 
opinion ; but that to record or select the phenomena of 
human nature creates an interest with the species itself." 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Even the fame which intellect secures may, in the 
opinion of an eminent writer, follow us to another world. 
Speaking of the desire of fame which, he says, " is so 
universal, and seems to be so instinctive in our nature, 
and operates so powerfully to do good when it seeks its 
object through laudable pursuits — that it is not a chimeri- 
cal possibility that it may be something more to us than 
a voice which we cannot hear, or than a breath which 
evaporates as it is uttered ;" he adds, " the reputation 
which we attain during this life may follow our being 
wherever that may be situated hereafter, with all its 
momentous consequences, creating benefit and pleasure 
to us there, whenever it has arisen from what piety and 
virtue sanction and perpetuate here; but causing us per- 



COLLOQUY XII. 249 

sonal and sentient evil and disgrace in our future abode, 
if it has sprung from actions, writings, or character which 
have been repugnant to moral reason, to human welfare, 
or to religious truth. It is the soundest inference to 
believe that all fame will be an unceasing companion to 
its possessor, for good or for evil, as long as the spirit 
shall exist any where in conscious sensitivity.*" This 
view may not meet with the ready acquiescence of the 
multitude ; for how must it be with those persons over 
whose memory clouds of calumny as well as sunshine of 
panegyric have been long hovering, and about whom all 
fame must sooner or later cease ? If, however, it be true, 
how far does it not elucidate the disadvantages of a pro- 
stituted intellect, be it never so capacious ? how obviously 
set forth the fact that we are answerable for our talents, 
and that from him unto whom much is given, much will 
be required ? Astounding fact ! How monstrous will be 
the charge brought against that man at the day of judg- 
ment, who can give no account of those intellectual talents 
with which he was so prodigally gifted ! Who then, thus 
accused, would not look back upon past days, and wish 
that they had been spent in comparative poverty of mind, 
dragging on existence in obscurity and indigence, yet in 
innocency of life, actuated by the precepts of the Gospel, 
and animated by the cheering prospect of obtaining a 
never-dying felicity, though it may not be adorned by 
those richer ornaments of the more intellectual, earned 
by the fame of a wellspent life ! Such an idea as that of 
our fame following us into another world, constituting, 
according to its character, a portion of our happiness or 
misery, induces us to think of the fate of those whose 

* Turner's Modem History of Europe. 



250 COLLOQUY XII. 

achievements have secured them a reputation which has 
descended to their posterity, and been spread, more or 
less, into foreign lands. Measuring the evil or the good 
which accompany those achievements by the common 
standard of Scripture, and judging of the future results 
which will await them, by the same standard, our minds 
revert to men who have left that reputation, be it good 
or be it bad, and the annoyance or comfort they must 
now perpetually receive, in consequence, We think of 
those who have offered up their own bodies in love to 
God, who have died martyrs to the faith — of those who 
have laboured to disseminate morality and piety, and 
inculcate wisdom — and of those, on the contrary, whose 
object has been to overthrow the bulwarks of religion, to 
spread a baneful influence throughout the moral atmo- 
sphere, that it may nip the bud of virtue, and taint the 
seed of righteousness. Names we may quote in either 
character, until we fill volumes ; but it would be invidious 
to bring them forth, and perhaps unjust, since the very 
soul which had attempted through life to corrupt such 
seeds of piety as may be scattered through a kingdom, 
may have become reconciled to Him by whom the seeds 
were sown, before the scene of life had finally closed 
upon him. Spenser, in the 7th Canto of the Second 
Book of his " Fairy Queen/' sends Tantalus and Pontius 
Pilate to the infernal regions ; but we tread upon for- 
bidden ground when we judge of the events of a man's 
life, though, for the sake of maintaining order and 
religion, we are bound to sit in judgment upon actions 
which have an infidel and immoral bias ; and never will 
protestations against such works be set down as evidences 
of uncharitableness in the book wherein all our deeds 
are recorded. 



1 



COLLOQUY XII. 251 



STEWART. 



There are different degrees of happiness : the hea- 
then, whose natural religion has saved him, is surpassed 
in happiness by the Christian philosopher. We yet all 
join in one common strain of adoration to Him from 
whom we derive our additional light, and whose glory, 
though not his person, is present with us. Without 
partaking of the vices of this earth, we still enjoy its 
highest pleasures, such as a purely intellectual and moral 
nature can enjoy. In truth may we say that our minds 
are mighty, yet unmindful of their might ; for one of the 
most prominent qualities in our new nature is simplicity : 
our thoughts rise spontaneously, and seem to flow like 
tributary streams into a channel which is imperishable. 
We know nothing of night ; for the glory of the Son of 
Man to us is never-ending and constant. We know 
nothing of seasons ; for our sphere is as fixed as our des- 
tinies. " The Indian sickens amongst his groves of 
fragrance;" but we never tire of our groves, wherein no 
vicissitudes can take place. There is a perpetual bloom, 
a constant serenity ; no fatigue, no sleep, no death, no 
decay, no birth, save the installation, or inauguration, or 
admission of another earthly saint, whose accession to a 
state so exalted, that of redeemed spirits, we welcome 
with songs of praise and thanksgiving. The influx into 
our region is rapid ; but we discover no distinguishing 
lineaments of youth, none of age. We mark no dis- 
figurement of form — no contortions. We are all, as it 
were, Genii of the same parent, over whose heads the 
same number of years has rolled ; but we differ in mind, 
in pure reasoning, in unaffected imaginings concerning 
heaven-born things, or the economy of worlds. We 



252 COLLOQUY XII. 

hear nothing of the amatory verse of Anacreon, nothing 
of the infidel reasoning of Hume, nothing of the irre- 
ligious philosophy of Voltaire. We have not to contend 
against lust, nor are we subject to the temptations of that 
spirit who is spreading the seed of sin and pollution 
wherever a population is found on your planet. Though 
we encounter him not, for we are free from his authority, 
we are not unmindful of his influence, of his presence 
among those in whose behalf we feel a temporary, I know 
not whether it will be a lasting, interest. We participate 
in the sentiments and thoughts of all virtuous minds — 
their influence is communicable: they command our 
attention, and are the subject of our pious themes and 
ejaculations. Your evils affect us not so as to destroy 
our happiness. We have no part with sin, and feel not 
its effects ; yet we are alive to your interests, especially to 
every thing that concerns the cultivation of mind, the 
only known thing, save God's glory, of our sphere — to 
doctrines which have a tendency to improve your con- 
dition, and inspire you with that belief which has worked 
out our own salvation. I am speaking the sentiments of 
my brethren ; for we are all of the same temperament in 
this matter — a temperament, I own, of itself more con- 
genial to our tastes than all the glitter and display of the 
greatest worldly grandeur, though annexed to it there 
may be crowns of many nations, and riches of incon- 
ceivable magnitude, and power and authority such as the 
earth never yet yielded to man. Our orb is ethereal, and 
those who inhabit it are purely mental, feeling interest 
only in that which is intellectual and moral, whether 
heavenly or terrestrial. This assurance is sweet; but the 
assurance of an eternal salvation is still sweeter, when 
our capacities will be still farther exalted: but we are 
unable to conceive to what extent. We desire that all 



COLLOQUY XII. 253 

may partake of this rich inheritance : we hope that phre- 
nology may be a means of enabling you to secure it, if 
it be capable of so much. But I must converse with you 
as though I was still of this world, desirous of seeing 
such truth elicited as may be turned to your benefit. I 
come to persuade myself of its truth, for it is truly a 
creature of this earth ; but whatever I rejected during my 
life from prejudice, I am not suffered to conceive of fully 
in my own element, where doubt may exist in temporal 
matters, but in none that are eternal. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Ere we again enter upon this topic so interesting to 
me, and .likely to prove useful to mankind, I feel enough 
curiosity to enquire whether you are ministering spirits 
to those whom you have left behind. An assurance of 
our departed friend's intercessions in our behalf would 
convey to the mind a considerable degree of pleasure. I 
am persuaded, for it would be impious to have any mis- 
givings on this head, that we may look upon the departed 
as separated from us only for a time, and that all upon 
whom the impress of divine grace is stamped, have an 
uninterrupted consciousness of immortality. 

STEWART. 

There is no such thing as a final separation between 
individuals, except between the good and the evil. Here 
is a barrier which can never be passed: but by no 
departed spirit are you visited in the office of messenger 
or minister. We are not ministering spirits; that office 
is reserved exclusively for an hierarchy now in the 
heaven of God, and who, at present, stand superior to 
us in power, and authority, and privileges. You may 



254 COLLOQUY XII. 

recollect that Milton speaks of God as issuing his com- 
mands to his angels. These are inspired authorities 
which convey the same sublime truths. Milton has, in 
most cases, kept near to probability, and thus it is that 
he has succeeded in gaining so much upon the good 
opinion of the public. Homer and Virgil may be sup- 
posed to have assisted him with the idea of angels bear- 
ing commissions from Heaven. They make subordinate 
deities receive instruction from their chief, Jupiter, and 
execute the commissions he may choose them to bear to 
the sons of men. So far, this is not inconsistent if we 
receive it as allegorical — Jupiter being represented as the 
true God — the subordinate agents as attendant angels; 
but I am not an angel, nor, therefore, an ambassador, 
and never, I presume, shall be ; for by the time I have 
attained the nature of an angel, man will have passed 
away from the earth. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

If you have no influence with us, no power to exhort, 
admonish, and reprove, you may yet surely intercede 
with the Deity in our behalf. If you call upon him, and 
invoke him, he doubtless attends to the call. 

STEWART. 

Nay. All our appeals to the throne would be ineffec- 
tual, our applications unheeded — it would, perhaps, be 
impious. Lest, therefore, you fancy your prayers may 
reach God through departed friends, I caution you not 
to address them as intercessors. It is a moral impossi- 
bility that they should either hear you or listen to your 
invocation. As with us there is no commission of sin, 
and therefore no repentance, in the same manner the 



COLLOQUY XII. 255 

cessation of our influence over you precludes our exert- 
ing or even possessing the power of interceding in your 
behalf. The only medium is Christ. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

May we not so much as pray for our departed 
friends ? 

STEWART. 

Your supplications may not be sinful, but they will 
avail nothing. The lot of every man is cast, his destiny 
fixed, and nothing can alter the purposes of God. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

And yet prayers for the dead were offered up by the 
early Jews.* 

STEWART. 

It is a very common custom, and was in use long 
before the Romish faith prevailed. It was observed by 
the primitive Christians as well as by the Jews before the 
birth of Christ. There is a liturgy, of very ancient date, 
now in existence in proof of this.t 



PHRENOLOGIST. 
Then these prayers were valueless. 

STEWART. 

Certainly. The Redeemer, I repeat, is the only 
Mediator. By pursuing this subject we should be neces- 

* 2 Maccabees, xii. 43, 44, 45. 

f Gentleman's Magazine for 1787, Part II. p. 979. 



256 COLLOQUY XII. 

sitated to enter into all the errors and superstitions of the 
Romish Church. This would lead us far away from the 
main object of our Colloquies, and to a subject that has 
called forth endless acrimony, gross impiety, unrelenting 
persecution, and martyrdom. We had, therefore, better 
waive all discussion concerning it ; and since night is fast 
closing upon us, defer our conversation upon that more 
interesting and less objectionable topic, phrenology, till 
our next interview. 



(257) 



COLLOQUY XIII. 



STEWART. 



At our last meeting we conversed upon a subject 
which had a moral tendency exclusive of any thing 
phrenological. Let us now confine our attention to the 
science, if I may so speak of it, and rather to that part 
which refers to the uses and abuses of those faculties 
which the phrenologist has professed to have discovered. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Say, rather, organs. 

STEWART. 

It matters little whether we say faculties or organs, 
if it is clearly understood that the organ is merely an 
instrument of the faculty, and indisputably clear that 
organs exist. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Both of these positions are, I conceive, established. 
Were they not, I should be loath to name the subject, 
much less to enforce the necessity of its observance. 



258 COLLOQUY XIII. 



STEWART. 

Do you believe that all the organs as they are arranged 
on the common phrenological bust or map, are proved to 
have an existence ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I think that at least two-thirds of the number are 
established, and I behold the others as highly probable. 
There is, no doubt, great consistency in the system of 
faculties in the phrenological classification. They seem, 
in every way, suited to that state of existence which 
experience and Scripture prove to be the true state of 
man in his various relations. I have said, in my " Letters 
on Phrenology/' that they connect us with the external 
world in an endless variety of ways, giving us knowledge 
of such things as are within the comprehension of man, 
each preserving an admirable adaptation in its functions 
to the purposes of life — functions without which it would 
be impossible for man to enter upon and perform those 
relative duties in which it was obviously intended he 
should be engaged, though it were not expressly designed 
he should absolutely and necessarily fulfil them. I have 
also said that the faculties are primitive, being necessary 
to our existence as rational, moral, responsible, reflecting, 
and physical creatures, equal to supply all our wants, and 
to regulate our conduct — that though they may minister 
to evil, they are yet capable of answering the ends of 
Divine Providence, morally speaking. It is likewise 
affirmed, that from them we derive our intellectual enjoy- 
ments, and the pleasures which attend pious emotions and 
moral impulses ; that they are capable, if rightly directed, 
of providing even a higher degree of happiness than we 



COLLOQUY XIII. 259 

now enjoy ; and that if man were deprived of any given 
portion of these faculties, he would lose much of his use- 
fulness, and be incapable, in a word, of enjoying that 
mental feast which is afforded by the study of nature, 
the pursuit of science, the lawful gratification of pro- 
pensity, and the contemplation of the relation subsisting 
between him and the moral government of God. 

STEWART. 

While the phrenological faculties have this tendency, 
no reasonable objection can be offered to them on that 
account. It is very plain that the first and paramount 
object of the phrenologist should be, to shew that the 
organs he has established are the instruments of faculties 
not only innate, essential, and inseparable, but also really 
destined to fulfil useful purposes in the scheme of creation, 
and capable, withal, of answering that end, subject only 
to the option of man himself. Unless you can establish 
an absolute utility in each organ consonant with the 
express design of the Creator — unless you can shew that 
each faculty is in itself good, and in harmony with the 
external world — unless it can be proved that man would 
fall short of an essential part of his nature if deprived of 
either faculty, now considered innate, there must be a 
radical defect in the system of phrenology ; since what- 
ever is created must, in its own sphere, be perfect, and 
not objectionable to the Deity. The Creator must be 
set forth, as he is, consistent in every part of his work. 
It cannot be supposed that he has executed any plan, or 
accomplished any end, which does not manifest both his 
wisdom and goodness ; and therefore an organ or a faculty 
capable only of abuses, or of acting in opposition to his 
good purposes and the interests of man, cannot exist. 
Hence, if the phrenologist has assigned right functions, 
s 2 



260 COLLOQUY XIII. 

or, rather, faculties to the organs, he must expect each to 
have a useful sphere of action peculiar to itself. The 
abuses of the mind, and here I agree with phrenologists, 
arise more particularly from certain associations, from 
want of harmony between the faculties themselves, and 
these with the external world. The right or proper use 
of every faculty, whether it has or has not an organ, has 
been assigned by Providence ; and its application to 
unprofitable pursuits, free agency or a perverted will 
being the chief cause, is an abuse which was never 
designed at the creation of man. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The names of some of the faculties are evidently not 
sufficiently comprehensive, since, by their common 
acceptation, they do not express the meaning which, in a 
phrenological sense, they are intended to convey. This 
may be perceived in taking a glance only at the functions 
of these faculties ; but the English language does not 
supply more applicable terms than those at present used. 
Custom, by associating the word with the thing signified, 
may render the phenomena expressed by each word, now, 
in its ordinary sense, conveying a more limited signifi- 
cation than what is understood by it phrenologically, 
comprehensive to the world ; for it matters not what the 
artificial sign is, so that it conveys to the mind universally 
that which we would have it to designate. Agreeably to 
the phrenological classification, there are two orders of 
faculties, each of which contains a certain number of 
genera. The first order, under the head of Feelings, 
contains two genera, consisting together of twenty-one 
faculties : the first nine, considered as Propensities, form 
one genus; the others, called Sentiments, are divided 
into those common to man and animals, which are four 



COLLOQUY XIII. 261 

in number, beginning at the organ of Self-esteem ; and 
those proper to man, eight in number, completing the 
order of Feelings, and beginning at the organ of Venera- 
tion, forming the second genera. With respect to the 
relative situation of the organs in the head, I would 
refer you to the maps or figures appended to the ordinary 
phrenological classification. 

STEWART. 

But what say you to the uses and abuses of the facul- 
ties ? If their combined functions will account for all 
the good and evil that exist in the world, and are suf- 
ficient for the purposes you have named, I see no reason 
to quarrel with your classification. I will put myself in 
the position of a listener, without troubling you much with 
my remarks, for the present at least, on the propriety or 
impropriety of any observations you may think fit to 
advance, that do not fall within my approbation. You 
must make allowance for my scepticism in a matter upon 
which I have entertained such rigid notions. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Your remarks, the result of mature thoughts, and a 
mind of remarkable powers of concentration, would not 
be deemed intrusive, but the reverse. Though I may 
not think as you thought, and have the best reasons for 
not doing so, I cannot but respect your opinions, and 
especially as they are, necessarily, much more valuable 
now than they were, 

STEWART. 
How know you that they are more valuable ? 



262 COLLOQUY XIII. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

I take it for granted you now think with more pro- 
priety, and that the mysteries in which your mind was 
whirled in metaphysics, have passed away, and left you 
with comparatively clear notions on a point about which 
it is possible men will ever differ. 

STEWART. 

I have certainly given you no evidence as yet of my 
superior wisdom — not even so much as advanced the 
main points of that doctrine in which I took so lively an 
interest. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

And in the promulgation of which you took so active 
and conspicuous a part, and are now referred to con- 
stantly as an authority in disputable questions. 

STEWART. 

That may be. Though I do not say I see as you see, 
it yet follows, if my mind has become enlarged by my 
recent change, and the views I once held were speculative 
and fallible, as they unquestionably were, that my notions 
are different, and that the cloud and maze which formerly 
enveloped them, have disappeared to a great extent. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Perhaps you have leaped from one extreme to the 
other, and are now ready to go with the phrenologist. I 
infer this from the dialogues which have taken place 
between us. 



COLLOQUY XIII. 263 



STEWART. 

Your inferences may be wrong. As yet I have been an 
interrogator rather than a teacher ; and I am not wiUing 
to assume the latter capacity until I have discovered 
what the opinions of the phrenologist are which require 
to be refuted or corrected. But I will not interrupt you 
further. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I will begin with the Animal Propensities, then pro- 
ceed to the Moral Feelings, and, lastly, to the Intellectual 
Faculties. 

Amativeness. Uses. — The tendency of this faculty 
is to excite in mankind a sexual desire, which is necessary 
to the preservation of the species. 

Abuses. — Indulgence in such ways as are prohibited 
by the oracles of God. 

Philoprogenitiveness. Uses. — By this organ we 
experience that love for our offspring which is called for 
by nature, and feel a tenderness for infants who require 
the fostering care of maturer age. 

Abuses. — These are manifested by giving too free a 
scope, from excessive fondness, to the inclinations of 
children, by nature so perverse. 

Concentrativeness. Uses. — Its possession enables 
man to concentrate his feelings and thoughts, so as to 
fix his mind stedfastly on objects, more particularly on 
places. 

Abuses. — A desire to remain stationary in places, and 
to be fixed to things not dictated by prudence.* 

* This organ appears not yet sufficiently -well-established. 



264 COLLOQUY XIII. 

Adhesiveness. Uses. — Occasions those kinds of 
friendship which maintain good-will among men, and 
preserve the order of society upon lawful and proper 
principles. 

Abuses. — Attachment to improper persons and things, 
producing friendships inimical to the interests of the 
object attached. 

Combativeness. Uses. — Enables man to oppose and 
resist whatever may be prejudicial to his being; to 
encounter, under the influence of some degree of courage, 
the attacks of an adversary, and to surmount obstacles 
when they present themselves. 

Abuses. — Propensity to fight and quarrel on the 
slightest provocation, and to take a hostile position when 
not justifiable, or warranted by reason. 

Destructiveness. Uses. — Without a faculty of this 
kind there would be no power to destroy those animals 
which either become offensive, or are necessary for our 
sustenance. It enables us to kill, in a similar manner 
as Combativeness does to oppose, such beings as are 
bent upon effecting a personal injury under the impulse 
of momentary passion, evil premeditation, and unlawful 
desires. Under proper restraint it becomes a means of 
defence in other useful matters, not exactly involving 
life. 

Abuses. — From these proceed the various species of 
torture which some men willingly and without pain 
inflict on individuals not deserving such treatment. It 
is the principal incentive to murder, revenge, malice, 
rage, calumny, or any thing that may injure or destroy 
the character of others. 



COLLOQUY XIII. 265 

Secretive ness. Uses. — Privacy and secrecy are 
necessary to man in some of his relations, and it is by 
this faculty that he is able to observe them. It is inti- 
mately connected with those acts of caution without 
which every human being would prove himself obnoxious 
to his Creator, to himself, and the world. 

Abuses. — Prevarication, and a tendency to conceal the 
truth ; artfulness, deception, and, in fact, every species 
of craftiness. 

Acquisitiveness. Uses. — With this organ exists a 
disposition to acquire and obtain such things as may 
conduce to our well-being, or are otherwise useful in 
effecting some laudable end, and to provide for those 
contingencies to which we are liable in our present 
condition. 

Abuses. — Thieving, covetousness, or any immoderate 
propensity to accumulate from selfish motives, or to gratify 
desires contrary to right principles. 

Constructiveness. Uses. — This organ gives a capa- 
city and a propensity to build, and a power to invent 
or contrive means of defence against the inclemency of 
seasons ; when cultivated, it produces a talent for archi- 
tecture. 

Abuses. — The construction of any object calculated to 
injure rather than to benefit mankind. 

Self-esteem. Uses. — A faculty of this description, 
the first of the second genus of Feelings of the first order, 
is useful to man, inasmuch as it produces that noble 
bearing of character, as distinguished from pride, which 
is required in the station we occupy in the world. In 
other words, our station, how degraded soever it may be, 



266 COLLOQUY XIII. 

is one that calls upon us to maintain a certain degree of 
independence and respect for ourselves above other and 
sublunary objects, not human, by which we are greatly 
deterred from the pursuit of any thing offensive and 
derogatory to mankind. Without this faculty we should 
not be able, perhaps, to perceive the responsibility of our 
condition over that of the brute. 

Abuses. — Inordinate love of power, pride, arrogance, 
scorn, contempt of others, and selfishness. 

Love of Approbation. Uses. — The office of this 
faculty doubtless aims at the approval and estimation of 
the Deity and of good men, and that not for the sake 
of vanity. 

Abuses. — Seeking not only unmerited but indiscrimi- 
nate approbation. 

Cautiousness. Uses.'— To man, and, in fact, all 
animals, this feeling must be essentially serviceable. It 
enables us to act with circumspection and vigilance in 
avoiding the dangers we are liable to incur by not observing 
the physical, moral, and intellectual laws ; it excites fear 
when they are likely to injure us. 

Abuses. — Cowardice, pusillanimity, groundless fears, 
anticipation of evils which may never occur, the encou- 
ragement of gloomy and hypochondriacal feelings. 

Benevolence. Uses. — Its chief function is to desire 
and promote the well-being of all objects capable of 
experiencing the benefits of kindness ; it gives compla- 
cency, meekness, philanthropy, and benignity to the 
disposition, and makes us charitably interested for, and 
mercifully inclined towards, all beings, who, though 



COLLOQUY XIII. 267 

independent of ourselves, may require our sympathy and 
consideration. 

Abuses. — At the first glance it would appear that no 
evil could result from this capacity of the mind, but it 
may be misapplied in many instances ; and an undue 
administration of property, or a sympathy for undeserving 
objects, enabling them to gratify their unreasonable 
inclinations, and, perhaps, at the risk of injuring others 
who have a claim upon our bounty, of which, indeed, 
the world affords many examples, are illustrations of the 
abuses to which this faculty is subject. 

Veneration. Uses. — This faculty is by no means 
the least useful of the Sentiments. It enables us to 
revere whatever is worthy of esteem and praise, or ought 
necessarily to be respected. It pays homage to those in 
authority over us, and allows honour where it is due. 
This organ is particularly exercised in religion, and in 
those acts of humility and devotion which are required 
by the social laws of man, and the injunctions of the 
Divine Governor. 

Abuses. — These are manifested in a flattering and 
servile spirit, mean subserviency to individuals, and in a 
respect for undeserving persons ; superstitious reverence 
in whatever form it may exist, and by whomsoever it may 
be exercised. 

Firmness. Uses. — Under the influence of this faculty 
man pursues steadily and resolutely any object that may 
lead to a useful and beneficial end ; it gives determina- 
tion to his purposes and constancy to his character, 
and infuses stability into all his actions. As an inciter 
of the human mind, none stand before it in point of 
utility. 



268 COLLOQUY XIII. 

Abuses. — Obstinacy in error, perverseness, and unrea- 
sonable inflexibility. 

Conscientiousness. Uses. — From this faculty pro- 
ceed exact and honourable dealings among men ; it gives 
us an idea of justice, and prompts us to do as we would 
be done unto. Candour, impartiality, and a steady 
inclination to preserve the rights of mankind are also its 
characteristic qualities. 

Abuses. — The feeling of the Hindoo widow, who con- 
ceives it to be a conscientious duty to burn herself, affords 
an illustration — remorse of conscience under circumstances 
not calling for it. 

Hope. Uses. — This faculty is absolutely necessary 
to our improvement and happiness in this life. Without 
it, a melancholy gloom would be spread over the mind from 
infancy through every stage of our mortal career. It 
inspires us with confidence in the anticipation of future 
good, and is an incentive to virtuous actions. Destitute 
of hope, we should be destitute of that faith by which 
the Christian character is supported, and which produces 
delightful sensations in the mind, in the prospect of 
eternity. 

Abuses. — Desire, mingled with expectation of what is 
not likely to occur — belief that whatever is hoped for will 
be realized, promising to ourselves the possession of a 
happiness which, from the nature of things, cannot be 
attained. 

Wonder. Uses. — This gives us a power to admire 
whatever is really extraordinary and sublime ; to be sur- 
prised at those things which do not come within the 
sphere of our comprehension, one tendency of which is 



COLLOQUY XIII. 

to excite our admiration and astonishment at the mar- 
vellousness and magnificence of the great scheme of 
creation. 

Abuses. — Astonishment at things which can be ac- 
counted for ; amazement at the deceptive arts practised 
by the conjurer and impostor, looking upon things as 
marvellous which are only delusions. 

Ignorance is generally the origin of these abuses ; but 
the sentiment of wonder is so necessary to them, that 
how weak soever the intellect may be, they could not 
prevail without the feeling. Combe says, its uses consist 
in the desire of novelty — admiration of the new, the unex- 
pected, the grand, the wonderful, and extraordinary : — 
its abuses in love of the marvellous and occult ; senseless 
astonishment ; belief in false miracles, in prodigies, magic, 
ghosts, and other supernatural absurdities. — Note. Vene- 
ration, hope, and wonder combined, give the tendency to 
religion : — their abuses produce superstition. 

Ideality. Uses. — The capacity of this faculty is to 
experience the emotion of beauty, and to delight in all 
that is splendid and elegant. Every idea that is clothed 
in beautiful idioms is impregnated as it were by this 
faculty of the mind. The ideas are embellished by it ; 
and thus as the eye catches any thing that is really grand, 
or the mind conceives of any thing that is really beau- 
tiful, the feelings of grandeur and beauty arise as its 
particular qualities. It is strictly a poetical faculty. 

Abuses. — Desire of such things as are pleasing to the 
eye, and gratifying to the fancy, without being really 
useful or permanently good; or, as Combe would say, 
cc Extravagance and absurd enthusiasm ; preference of the 
showy and glaring to the solid and useful ; a tendency to 



270 COLLOQUY XIII. 

dwell in the regions of fancy, and to neglect the duties of 
life." 

Gaiety or Mirthfulness.* Uses. — It gives cheer- 
fulness to our temperaments or dispositions, and infuses 
a pleasing charm into the scenes of life. Without it, life 
would be a dull monotony ; it prompts us to be cheerful 
when cares surround us, and when the spell of happiness 
seems to be broken. Facetiousness is one of its elements. 

Abuses. — Frivolous merriment, ridiculous jesting. 

Imitation. Uses.—' As animals, it is necessary we 
should have an imitative capacity; and as rational creatures, 
we are required to act from example in those things which 
are consistent with reasonable beings; and in this action 
we copy that in which the object of example excels. 

Abuses. — Imitating what is improper and ridiculous. 

This ends the list of Feelings ; and now I will pass on 
to the Intellectual Order. 

STEWART. 

But stay. It would be possible to comment largely 
on your statements ; nor is it likely that some of them 
should escape the charge of inconsistency, while the ideas 
of men upon subjects which will not admit of demonstra- 
tion, are as numerous and different as the minds which 
entertain them. Though some of the faculties you have 
named are admitted by metaphysicians, others are entirely 

* This organ has been in general called wit, which is a 
power that seems neither necessary to man, as every innate 
faculty must be, nor exclusively the function of anyone organ. 



COLLOQUY XIII. 271 

new. Such functions as are assigned to these faculties,, in 
the way of uses and abuses, undoubtedly exist with the 
mind ; but that they should be the functions of primitive 
faculties, as considered by you, would have been a matter 
of dispute with Reid, Brown, and other metaphysicians. 
I do not say they could have proved your positions to be 
false; because the best they might have been able to 
advance, would amount to nothing more than opinion, 
founded, not upon facts, but probabilities or conjectures. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 
Yes. Hypothesis only. 

STEWART. 

This subject has already engaged our attention. Sup- 
pose, therefore, you continue your observations. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Of the abuses of the Intellectual Faculties we can say 
but little, if we except Comparison and Causality, the rea- 
soning powers. The external senses, such as Sight, Smell, 
Taste, Hearing, and Touch, which belong to the order of 
intellectual faculties, the uses of which all persons are 
acquainted with, may be too much exercised, and in this 
over-indulgence, or excessive employment, we may trace 
abuse. The delight experienced by some in hearing dis- 
cordant music, or seeing improper objects, does not arise 
from any radical defect either in the ear or the eye, but in 
the feelings and temperament of the mind. All the other 
faculties may be prostituted to, or made the instruments 
for, the accomplishment of bad purposes ; but this pro- 
ceeds from some defect in the practical judgment, or 
from impurity of feeling. For instance, the organ of 



272 coLLOQur xiii. 

Colour may be made useful to the dauber and obscene 
painter — the organ of language to the swearer : these are 
evils, and as they have reference to the application of the 
organs, may be considered as their abuses, but not per- 
haps so directly the results of the organs themselves as 
those already considered. Yet no abuse, let it apply to 
what organ it may, seems, as was before intimated, to 
emanate so directly from the organ itself as does the use. 
The great radical defects in our nature appear, indeed, to 
arise from the predominance of the animal over the moral 
feelings, and from error or prostitution of judgment, on 
the part of the reasoning powers, prompting us to com- 
mit actions which are not sanctioned by any species of 
duty, moral or religious. The Intellectual Faculties form 
the second order of the innate properties of the human 
mind in the classification of the phrenologist ; which order 
is divided into four genera — the first genus consisting of 
the external senses ; the second, of those faculties which 
simply perceive the existence and qualities of external 
objects ; the third, of such as perceive the relations of 
those objects ; the fourth, of faculties which compare, 
judge, and discriminate. The office of the external senses 
which form the first genus being so well known, I will 
make no comment upon them here, but pass on to the 
other genera, the first five faculties of which form the 
second genus, the following seven the third genus, and 
the two last the fourth genus. I shall allude to their 
uses only. 

Individuality. — This gives us the power to perceive 
an object as it is presented to our minds in the whole. 
It seems to be that organ wherein the several qualities 
of an object, being concentrated, are collectively recog- 
nised. Whether it has the power of concentrating the 



COLLOQUY XIII. 273 

perceptions formed by other organs, and which have more 
particular relation to each quality of a body, is not yet 
decided, nor even noticed by phrenologists. It evidently 
appears to be an organ especially concerned in taking 
cognizance of what is conveyed by the eye to the brain. 

Form. In this faculty we notice a capacity enabling 
man to observe a single quality of a body — its Form, 
without which we could not have any idea of existence. 

Size. The cognition of an object in its particular 
property of dimension is gained by the organ of Size. 
It is also supposed that a notion of space and distance is 
acquired by it ; but this probably is an inference derived 
from comparison. Before we can have any idea of space, 
if, indeed, any idea at all can be formed of a vacuum, we 
must first have a notion of relative position and relative 
distance. Combe says, it " gives the idea of space, and 
enables us to appreciate dimension and distance/' 

Weight. As to the uses, or even the existence of 
such an organ as Weight, it may be remarked, that if the 
capacities of the organs of the second genus of the intellec- 
tual order are confined to the perception of the existence 
and qualities of external objects simply, this organ is not 
established, it being evident that we can only judge of it 
by relation. It seems to be the event of reasoning — a 
knowledge gained by first perceiving the comparative 
solidity, and the heaviness of the particles of different 
substances. There is doubtless an organ at the part of 
the brain where that of Weight is said to exist ; but its 
functions do not appear to be thoroughly understood at 
present. 

Colouring. It is by this faculty we obtain a know- 



274 COLLOQUY XIII. 

ledge of colours, and perceive the harmonies subsisting 
between them. 

Locality. — Of the faculties which perceive the rela- 
tions that exist between external objects, and which form 
the third genus of the intellectual order, this is the first. 
It furnishes us with a power to know localities, and the 
relation which they bear to each other. 

Number. — Every kind of numeration or calculation 
that relates to figures is made by this faculty. 

Order. — Under the influence of this organ man ar- 
ranges his physical affairs in a methodical manner. It 
is plainly manifested in those domestic arrangements for 
the excellence of which some persons are particularly 
distinguished. 

Eventuality. — This, perhaps, is one of the most 
requisite and useful of the intellectual organs. Incidents 
as they transpire are noticed by it, and it forms a sort of 
register of events. 

Time. — The period between events is computed by 
this organ. It " gives rise to the perception of duration." 

Tune or Melody — Perceives harmonious sounds; 
without it many of the external beauties of nature, such 
as the song of the nightingale, would be lost to man. It 
enables us to judge of the distinction between discord and 
harmony — gives a musical ear. 

Language. — The artificial or arbitrary signs by which 
we express ourselves are invented, acquired, understood, 
remembered, and applied by this faculty. It further 



COLLOQUY XIII. 275 

appears that the modulations of the voice are greatly 
under its controul. 

Comparison. — This faculty, which, together with that 
of Causality, constitutes the fourth genus of the intel- 
lectual order, is that from which reason, and reflection, 
and free-will partly emanate, and that which serves as 
much as any other to ennoble the character of mankind. 
It discriminates and compares, draws inferences and 
judges ; in other words, the analogies and dissimilarities 
of objects are recognised by it. 

Causality. — The more especial province of this 
faculty is to discover the connection between causes and 
their effects — to trace, by a concatenation of circumstances 
and certain relative phenomena, how much and how par- 
ticularly the latter may depend on the former. 

I have now taken a superficial glance at the functions 
of the several faculties, but I will not answer for their 
correctness in every particular. Though there is room 
for objections to be urged against them, it would be 
exceedingly difficult to support those objections by a 
greater weight of argument than that in which the 
positions are themselves already clothed. Alterations 
are yet, perhaps, to take place, but they will not, I 
apprehend, be very material; and as there are other 
existing faculties that may be termed mental, not men- 
tioned in the phrenological classification, there is every 
reason to presume, seeing they have not as yet received 
any definite seat in the brain, that they really belong to 
those parts to which the phrenologist has hitherto been 
unable to assign any distinct faculties : for there are por- 
tions of brain, the actual uses of which are unknown 
t 2 



276 COLLOQUY XIII. 

to us. Many anatomists and physiologists have, never- 
theless, made such experiments as leave little room to 
doubt of several orders of feeling having their origin 
here. The cerebellum and convolutions of the brain 
are, or at least appear to be, exclusively intended to 
minister to the intellectual, moral, and animal faculties ; 
and we are at liberty to conclude, that as no part of the 
body, except the brain, is literally endowed with an 
innate mental faculty, and the only seat of consciousness, 
that those parts which the convolutions and cerebellum 
do not comprise, are the seats of such faculties as the 
phrenological classification does not embrace. These 
faculties are, Pain, Thirst, Hunger, and other sensations, 
which we cannot attach or ascribe in any manner to 
those now forming the nomenclature. Although pain, 
thirst, and hunger may appear localized to certain bodily 
parts, we doubt not that the mind, whose seat is the 
brain exclusively, is that which becomes impressed with 
consciousness on all occasions, and hence that the brain, 
as well as those parts which alone appear to feel, is 
instrumental in producing the sensation. 

STEWART. 

What! Is the tongue not the organ of taste — the 
fingers of feeling ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Strictly speaking, they are not. They are instru- 
ments only. They receive impressions which must be 
conveyed to the brain before consciousness arises. 

STEWART. 

Man is, indeed, wonderfully made. The instanta- 
neousness of the recognition by the brain increases the 



COLLOQUY XIIL 277 

mystery ; though I know not what reason we have to 
suppose that the tongue and finger, for example, are 
virtually organs of sensation. The eye, you would say, 
is the organ of vision ; yet without a brain, or a ganglionic 
substance, answering the purpose of a brain, no animal 
would be able to see. But you have as yet, you say, no 
organs of sensation in the brain. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Not exactly so. We may say that the perceptive 
organs answer the purpose in many respects. For instance, 
in the act of touch we recognise form, which is evidently 
one of the functions of the organ of Form. In sight we 
see a colour, and there is an organ of Colour. An organ 
of Appetite or Hunger is conceived to have been recently 
discovered. 

STEWART. 

The classification of the faculties you said is objection- 
able. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Yes. There is, in particular, some objection to the 
classification of those faculties called Sentiments. Accord- 
ing to the arrangement, brutes are made to possess bene- 
volence, and not the faculty of imitation. The principal 
capacity of benevolence, as the phrenologist understands 
it, is a desire for the happiness of other beings, to which 
the brute, most assuredly, is a stranger ; and with respect 
to animals below man, possessing the organ of Imitation, 
there can scarcely be a doubt on the matter. As to that 
of Mirthfulness, which it is supposed they enjoy, it may 
be observed that the degree of it is much limited. We 



278 COLLOQUY XII r. 

could be mirthful from reason, and faith, and hope in 
futurity ; while the most sagacious brutes would be so 
probably only in the gratification of some instinctive pro- 
pensity. If we can confine the joy which they experience 
to this species of gratification, and suppose that the organ 
of Mirthfulness is the organ that gives us cheerfulness 
only under the operation of reason, then we may properly 
exclude this organ in reference to them. It is also named 
Wit ; but wit is a compound function of the mind, and 
not so much the simple action of one faculty as benevo- 
lence or veneration. The brute, again, is not firm, 
except it be to gratify some propensity ; whereas man is 
firm from other and higher motives. These kinds of 
mirthfulness and firmness in the brute may, then, be 
considered as the events of gratified feelings which are 
instinctively called forth, and, therefore, different from 
what we would have the organs to signify in the genus 
where they now stand. The meekness or passiveness 
perceptible in some brutes arises, in like manner, from 
satiated feeling, and from kindness from which they are 
capable of experiencing delight, often manifested in a 
degree of mirthfulness. The organ of Imitation in man 
has a more extensive sphere of action than what is 
enjoyed by a brute. 

STEWART. 

If you take the sagacities and instincts of the whole 
brute creation into account, you will find it extremely 
difficult to make man possess any faculty which may not 
be found, in some way or another, in that whole. By 
placing any one animal in comparison with man, an 
immediate difference will be discovered; but give that 
one all the faculties which other animals, both higher 



COLLOQUY XIII. 279 

and lower in the scale, possess, and in what shall man be 
found superior ? Certainly not in many things. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This subject, if pursued, would lead us too far into 
comparative phrenology, on which I am not disposed to 
enter here. It is a field but little trod at present, and 
certainly could not be explored successfully without con- 
siderable labour and toil ; and a regular system must be 
adopted before any thing very profitable can be reaped 
from it. But to resume for a moment the consideration 
of the Faculties, I wish to be understood that, while each 
possesses a peculiar economy of its own, it depends for 
its existence, as well as for its action, on the organization 
of other faculties, and on the external world. That we 
have assigned to each faculty its proper functions — that 
we have given to it all and no more than it claims, is very 
doubtful ; and as it is questionable whether the economy 
of either is rightly understood, it becomes a matter of great 
importance that the energies of the phrenologist should 
be directed especially to this point. It may be also well 
to observe here, that the manifestations of the mind, whe- 
ther simple or complex, that is, as produced from the 
action of a single faculty, or from a combination of them, 
are good or otherwise, according to the circumstances 
which may call them into being, the organization and 
education having great effect in determining the result. 
It is an axiom held by the phrenologist, that, cceteris 
paribus, in proportion to the size of an organ, so is the 
energy or activity of its faculty. This principle being 
true — and the whole constitution of nature confirms its 
truth — we may easily conceive that, if the instinctive 
organs were unusually large compared with those of 
intellect or morality, their faculties would assume great 



COLLOQUY XIII. 

ascendancy, and that, in fact, the higher powers would, 
in one respect, be made subservient to them. Education, 
by which I understand every thing capable of drawing 
out the higher powers at the expence of the lower, would, 
of course, greatly modify the result. It must not be 
forgotten, however, in this place, that the organs of the 
propensities are at all times larger than those of either 
intellect or morality. It would be well if it were other- 
wise, as in such a case the moral and intellectual con- 
ditions of the world would be found more supreme, and 
the condition of man, therefore, considerably improved. 
The truth of this position is borne out by experience; 
for we discover, amidst all the wreck of morals and 
mind, even in the best and most talented of men, that 
man is most capable of filling those relations which he 
bears to society with the greatest advantages, and to the 
most successful and useful end, when his brain is well 
developed. Experience also proves that, in proportion 
as the faculties are exercised, the organs thereof become 
enlarged ; and since the larger organs have in their mani- 
festations the greatest authority over the bent of mind, 
we must discover an essential utility attaching itself to 
that which has the effect of exercising the best of facul- 
ties, and hence enlarging the best organs. 



(281 ) 



COLLOQUY XIV. 



Among the watering places on the coast of Devon, 
Teignmouth ranks deservedly high. Its open sea and 
excellent sands, its towering cliffs and beautiful river, its 
charming vallies and shady groves, will always render the 
place attractive. There is one walk in the neighbourhood 
which deserves to be especially noticed. It has a most 
appropriate name, Love-lane. It runs by the side of the 
sea immediately on the edge of the high cliffs, yet is 
bounded in parts on either side by a hedge-row which 
intercepts the sight, occasional breaks existing, that the 
eye may be ravished with a view of the ocean, which 
here appears in all its magnificence. In tempests it 
presents all the rough grandeur of the storm, the tide 
below beating against the sands and fallen crags with a 
hollow roar — the swelling waves, tipped with their white 
foam, riding proudly towards the perpendicular rocks, 
which, 

Like some cleft castle, with calm disdain, 
Still braves the outrage of inclement skies. 

The close of a sunny and calm day brings with it a sea- 
view here which has often drawn my attention. The sun 
in the west behind allows the dark cliffs to throw their 
shadows on the waters, which, on being contrasted with 
the glassy surface to which the rays of light are yet 



COLLOQUY XIV. 

admitted, and from which they are reflected, gives a 
pleasing and varied effect that will never fail to attract 
the observant mind. Nor will the morning break here 
upon the early riser without presenting a scene of con- 
siderable attraction. The sun in the east gradually rises 
as though the deep and fathomless waters had contained 
her during the night, and were now sending her forth to 
animate the spirits of the earth, and dissipate the gloom 
of dawn. The feeble rays scattered upon the still waters, 
and the sun rising in gorgeous splendour, are seldom seen 
with greater effect than from some parts of this romantic 
walk. An east sea- view at dawn of day, the sun as it 
were breaking through the watery element, never ceases 
to interest us. It is, perhaps, in some measure, on 
account of the quietude of the thoughts at this period, 
the night having partially absolved the spell which bound 
us to trouble, or thrown into oblivion the feelings of the 
preceding day. We are never better prepared for inter- 
course with Nature — never so alive to her magical influ- 
ences over the heart — never so suited to notice the simplest 
incident, and recognise the varied beauties and solemn 
grandeur which she presents, as when the mind is undis- 
turbed, unruffled, by intercourse with man, in his ever- 
aspiring, ever-craving lust for power, ease, and luxury. 
In the morning these desires are for a time subdued ; 
though we no sooner again enter upon our daily course, 
exchanging what are called civilities, and carrying on 
business communications, than the calm of thought which 
mingled with the beam of the morning, and centred in 
nature rather than man, is broken, and succeeded by feel- 
ings of less innocence and delight. The dawn of a sum- 
mer's day, when the world has not yet thrown off its 
slumbers — when the refreshing breeze whispers peace, and 
nature yet lives in silence, save the noise of the foaming 



COLLOQUY XIV. 283 

surge, is the most enviable of all seasons, and should, 
not only for the quiet it yields to the turbulent mind of 
man, but for the health it brings, be sought with avidity. 
Then, in truth, should we be often enabled to say with 
Chatterton, in all the elegance, and beauty, and harmony, 
and simplicity of poetry, 

The morn begins along the east to shine ; 

The flitting lights upon the waters play ; 
The faint red ray slow creepeth o'er the green, 

To chase the murkineas of night away. 

Oh, sweet retirement amidst groves and hedges, cot- 
tages and sea ! Talk not of art, says an elegant moral 
writer: I love the forms of nature : they are simple, 
fair, and beautiful. How lovely is the landscape ! how 
balmy the air ! how sweet the silence of the sequestered 
spot, broken by the melody of the rejoicing birds ! Such 
a walk as this revives the spirits, and bids the heart offer 
up its thanksgivings to Him who has clothed, as with a 
garment, the heavens and the earth with beauty. Talk of 
painting ! What think you of the cottage with the thin 
blue smoke rising up amidst the trees of the coppice ? — 
the winding brook in the valley, and the peaked moun- 
tains in the distance, far as the eye can reach ? What of 
the glorious sunset, the sky of molten gold ? Here is 
nature, simplicity, beauty, colouring, and life, that the 
Rembrandts, the Raffaelles, and the Rubens of the day 
cannot touch or approach. The glowing tints of the 
skies of Claude Lorraine are nought compared to the 
heavens rich with the beams of the setting sun. What, 
again, is music in comparison with the song of birds ; or 
the full-toned voice of the saint pronouncing the dreadful 
judgments of the everlasting God, singing the praises and 
mercy of the Redeemer !— or, what compared with the 
poetry of Scripture is the poetry of man ? What is all 



284 COLLOQUY XIV. 

the guilty homage of inflated rhyme paid to meretricious 
beauty and vain-glorious heroism ? What all the wild 
idolatry that is offered up to imaginary beings and fabled 
deities ? In Scripture there are high and holy thoughts, 
in flowing strains, directed to a high and holy purpose. 
Homer, Virgil, and Milton may beguile us with their 
song ; but the songs of the Royal Psalmist purify while 
they raise the heart — elevate while they sooth the affec- 
tions. They are more than poetry — they are words which 
human art could not invent or conceive. 

Gaining the summit of the gradually rising ground, 
we command a peculiarly striking view. From a single 
spot are seen the much-frequented watering place, Ex- 
mouth, standing proudly forward on the beacon, together 
with the mouth of its river, and the long line of coast 
before and beyond it ; while in an immediately opposite 
direction are presented part of the town of Teignmouth, 
the mouth of its river, the high and cultivated land 
behind, a bold headland called the Ness, not unlike the 
Shakspeare Cliff at Dover in form, grouped with the 
romantic and far-famed village of Babicomb and its bay. 
I do not think it possible for a much more sublime and 
picturesque prospect than the sea and land present here, to 
exist in Europe. By continuing this path the pedestrian 
meets the road leading to Dawlish, a watering place that 
has enjoyed some celebrity. It is not like some others, 
rendered disagreeable from the resident gentry, persons 
of no distinction and of limited incomes, assuming an 
authority and importance which are not the lawful privi- 
leges of any order of men, and certainly never affected 
by the nobler, wiser, and better part. Human pride is 
never so deserving of censure as when we see combined 
with it littleness and meanness. It is, perhaps, then, too 
offensive to deserve any thing but contempt and silence. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 



285 



The distance from Dawlish to Teignmouth is three 
miles, the road being one continued succession of hills ; 
and the descent into the latter place, for a distance of 
nearly a mile, will always be remembered by the tourist 
for its beauty and variety. The Teign River is another 
object of interest, from its expansiveness, its woody 
sloping and cultivated banks, and the bold outline of 
Dartmoor in the distance, which seems to raise itself as if 
in proud defiance to the river it gives forth. By the side 
of this capacious stream, and close to the town, the 
Exmouth family have long resided. Here the great Admi- 
ral passed his latter days, and here he died. Both Teign- 
mouth and Bishopsteignton, a delightful village in the 
vicinity, along the course of the river, are remarkable for 
the resort of naval and military men, of the former class 
especially. One evident reason may be assigned for this 
congregation of congenial spirits — men of battle — is the 
moderate price of provisions. There is, perhaps, another 
inducement — the sea; a sight of which recalls to the 
sailor's mind the events of by-gone days, which in the 
distance of time generally bring forth some pleasing 
reminiscences, though they should have been mingled 
with dangers and hardships. The glories of war, the 
trophies of victory, the spoils of the vanquished pass in 
review before him, and produce something like a heart- 
felt satisfaction, and a still lingering love for that element 
on which they have been valorously and skilfully won. 
The locality of Teignmouth is of itself, however, sufficient 
to attract him who seeks a pleasant retirement in the 
decline of life, or who wants that peace which the situ- 
ation of his early career denied him. Though it does not 
present any thing particularly striking, except what has 
been mentioned, it is yet on the whole a beautiful spot. 
It is not a second Scio, which has been called the paradise 



286 COLLOQUY XIV. 

of modern Greece; but it is certainly equal in picturesque- 
ness to any other place in Devonshire; nor is it like Scio, 
where Homer is said to have been born, reputed for being 
the birthplace of any very remarkable character. This 
" flower of the Levant," this " richest, pleasantest, most 
fertile, and populous island in the Archipelago," is thus 
graphically described by Dr. Clarke, who sailed along its 
Strait from Constantinople to Egypt : — " As we advanced, 
however, and drew near to Chios,* the gorgeous picture 
presented by that beautiful island drew all our attention, 
and engrossed it from daylight until noon. It is the 
paradise of modern Greece — more productive than any 
other island, and yielding to none in grandeur. We passed 
close beneath the town, sailing pleasantly along its vine- 
yards and plantations, and inhaling spicy odours wafted 
from cliffs and groves. The houses being all white, with 
flat roofs, presented a lively contrast to the evergreens 
which overshadowed them ; seeming like little palaces in 
the midst of bowers of citron, lime, olive, and pome- 
granate trees." — The enthusiasm and rapture with which 
many historians and tourists have recorded the beauties of 
this island — the sociability, frankness, gaiety, and cour- 
teousness of its inhabitants — and the loveliness of the 



* This was the ancient name of Scio. By the Greeks it 
is now called Chio. Since Dr. Clarke had it- in his power to 
give this beautiful description, the island has become a scene 
of desolation. It had long been under the government of the 
Turks, and existed in great tranquillity and peace till the 
peasantry were prevailed upon by two Greek adventurers in 
1822 to revolt. The punishment which awaited the Sciotes 
was death, and the ruin of their island. A Turkish fleet 
arriving, murder, and barbarities, and rapine were carried to 
a frightful extent. The bloodthirsty Turks walked in the 
blood of the slain, consisting of men, women, and children. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 287 

women, who spin and knit amidst groves of orange-trees 
and cypresses, amidst myrtles and jasmines, sending forth 
their odorous blossom and " golden fruit" to regale the 
senses, present a picture to the eye whose features are so 
characteristically lovely and charming as to spoil our relish 
for the tamer scenery of Devonshire, though it has all 
the advantage of sea, of fine navigable rivers, of an undu- 
lated country, of fertilization and plenty. It would yet, 
perhaps, be almost impossible for the Bay-tree, the 
Laurus nobilis, so common in Scio, and other parts of the 
Levant, of which it is a native, and growing in wild pro- 
fusion, to arrive at much greater perfection than it does 
in some localities in Devonshire, and I believe particu- 
larly, if my memory serves me, in Teignmouth. As it 
was held in greater repute by the ancients, and made an 
agent for many of their superstitions, as well as being 
used as a mark of honour and glory, it has become adopted 
into that family of plants which we hold in a degree of 
reverence, or look upon with a feeling akin to sacredness. 
The delight we have experienced from Grecian poets and 
Grecian historians has thrown a kind of lustre over every 
thing deemed useful, important, or intrinsically excellent 
by them ; and we have, as by instinct, so imbibed their 
superstitious practice of attaching virtue to this tree, as to 
make it, even in this day, a token of honour. The crown 
of the poet laureat of this country is a wreath of laurel,* 
as was that of Apollo, the God of Poetry. Bound round 
the brows, it stands forth as an emblem of poetic king- 
liness, before which all other poets must bow in humble 
submission, though they may be even fitter to wear the 

* This is not, I believe, the same species of laurel as that 
celebrated by the Greeks, being the common cherry laurel, 
" Prunus Laurocerasus ," from which Prussic acid is obtained. 



288 COLLOQUY XIV. 

wreath than he upon whom it has been bestowed. 
Foreign Universities have recently used it as a symbol of 
distinction with those upon whom they conferred degrees ; 
and Baccalaureus Artium, Bachelor of Arts, the first 
University degree, is a title obtained from the laurel-berry. 
But the Bay-tree is not the only classic and honoured 
shrub that grows luxuriantly in this part. The myrtle 
is no where seen to flourish with such vigour as here ; nor 
are its dark-green fragrant leaves lost in the winter 
months. 

" This dark myrtle, 
" Whose ev'ry shining leaf tells mighty things 
" Of Greece and Rome — of conquerors and of kings," 

is universally regarded by the Devonians as one of those 
plants to which the climate and soil of their county are 
particularly well suited ; and to no tree are they so ready 
to direct the attention of the stranger as to this. There 
is a silent wish in the English breast that what the ancients 
valued in this way, and of which they made such honour- 
able use, should still retain its former luxuriance, though 
it is no longer applied to such ceremonial purposes. But 
if it no longer deck the crown with honours prized and 
envied, it serves to remind us of times in which the laurel 
crown, in common with itself, was worshipped with a 
superstitious reverence, and estimated above silver and 
gold. Ambition was the strongest passion of the ancient 
Greeks and Romans, and on its shrine was the myrtle 
placed for all who could obtain it by such exploits and 
achievements as were alone entitled to the possession of 
its wreath. 

Teignmouth is not in so much repute as it was some 
years ago, though it has undergone considerable improve- 
ments of late. From the lowness of its stuation, and 



COLLOQUY XIV. 289 

being bounded on one side by the sea, and on another by 
the river, the atmosphere is usually humid, and hence 
unhealthy. By lying, too, nearly due east, it is exposed 
especially to the oppressive heat of the sun in summer, 
and to the easterly gales particularly in spring and autumn. 
Nor is it protected from the west winds which blow 
violently up the valley in the course of the river, carrying 
with them the additional humidity arising from the 
adjacent boggy parts. The vicissitudes here are conse- 
quently great ; but these the tourist may be disposed to 
endure, for the sake of the pleasure to be derived from the 
varied and beautiful prospects of the immediate neigh- 
bourhood. Against the objections there is another advan- 
tage to be set ; this is the great politeness and civility of 
the inhabitants to strangers, which is a desideratum in 
many watering places. Persons not in search of health, 
and who can take either horse or pedestrian exercise, may 
spend a few weeks at this resort with considerable delight ; 
but those who seek health may not be surprised if they 
never find it here : — consumptions, coughs, indigestions, 
every affection, in fact, in which sudden and extreme 
atmospheric changes, accompanied with damp, chilly 
breezes, or dry and parching winds, are likely to be 
injurious, will usually be exasperated by a residence in 
Teignmouth. Though one of the most delightful spots 
in Devonshire, it is unquestionably one of the most 
unhealthy. There are other reasons, too, why the dis- 
eases incident to the frame are not to be easily or quickly 
dissipated here. Nature, ever kind, has yet often some 
rude and unskilful opponents to encounter, whom she 
would willingly banish from her presence, and charge with 
folly, cruelty, and ignorance. 

There are, however, few places which we frequent that 
afford unmingled delight. If they minister to our senses, 

u 



290 COLLOQUY XIV. fc 

they may draw upon our health, and if not our health, our 
peace of mind, We call for peace, and Nature responds, 
There is no peace ! We hope for contentment, and find 
none. There is a melancholy sadness in the thought 
that we are ever seeking what we cannot find — ever look- 
ing forward to a future which will never come. The 
butterfly of the day wings from flower to flower, and its 
happiness is in the enjoyment of the present ; but man 
pines for that which the day will not afford, and in grasp- 
ing for the reality, he meets with a shadow. If we gather 
the sweets of life, we enjoy them only for a moment. 
They pass off with the dew of the morn, or languish in the 
breeze of the evening. They are but as the rays of the 
setting sun flitting upon the waters, and dying away with 
the shadows of the night. It is with beauty as with 
pleasure : if time snatch it not away, death will. This 
calls to my recollection a mournful instance which occurred 
in this place, of the momentary existence of female graces, 
loveliness, and beauty ; qualities which only live to die — 
to captivate and animate us for a season, and then fade 
away like the beauties of a landscape, veiled in eternal 
night. Bright is that reminiscence which now pictures 
to my mind the form of one who has just sunk into the 
grave — one on whom Nature prodigally lavished the 
highest of female personal charms, and bountifully sup- 
plied with virtues and wisdom. Her young heart bounded 
with joy, and her smile eloquently proclaimed the sim- 
plicity and innocence of her mind. Not a ripple seemed 
to disturb its surface, nor a cloud to obscure its bright- 
ness : 

Peace, deck'd in all the softness of the dove, 
O'er her passions spread its silver plume ; 

The rosy veil of harmony and love 

Hung on her soul in one eternal bloom. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 291 

In every movement there was grace — in every look dignity 
and sweetness. She commanded our respect while she 
extorted our love. Every expression kindled admiration. 
As her thoughts and feelings arose in the mind, they 
burst into light. We saw them breaking through her 
beautiful countenance, ' c like day-beams through the 
morning air/' and as the impression arose, we caught its 
inspiration. 

" Her eyelids black and silken fringe 

" Lay on her cheek of vernal tinge, 

" Like the first ebon cloud that closes, 

" Dark on evening's heaven of roses ! 

" Her glances, though in silence hid, 

" Seem'd glowing through her ivory lid, 

" And o'er her lips reflecting dew 

" A soft and liquid lustre threw ; 

" Such as, declining dim and faint, 

" The lamp of some beloved saint 

" Doth shed upon a flow'ry wreath 

" Which pious hands have hung beneath I" 

Her finely formed face gave an additional interest to her 
countenance. Her eyes were black, and the most beau- 
tiful and varying. There was a mixture of softness and 
brightness, of languor and voluptuousness. They ex- 
pressed both sentiment and intelligence, both passion 
and innocence ; and they had the assistance of dark arched 
brows, flexible beyond measure. It was a marvellous 
expression — one that must for ever remain incommuni- 
cable; but persons live, who still remember it. The 
transitions of thought and passion were rapid, which 
gave an animated and impassioned tone to her look, 
striking every person alive to grace and beauty. Indeed, 
she was altogether an exquisitely faithful portrait of 
female loveliness — now reminding us of Imogen, now of 
u 2 



292 COLLOQUY XIV. 

Juliet, now of Desdemona. Different from either, she 
almost necessarily partook of the qualities of all; for 
what is there in female nature that is excellent and 
winning which we do not see combined in these three 
characters ? She had a majestic figure. Her neck and 
arms were moulded in Nature's finest mould, white and 
smooth as ivory. 

Her lips more red than summer's evening sky, 

Or Phoebus rising in a frosty morn ; 
Her breasts more white than snow in fields that lie, 

Or lily lambs that never have been shorn, 
Swelling like bubbles in a boiling well, 
Or newly-burst riv'lets softly whisp'ring in the dell, 

gave beauty to her small and somewhat pouting mouth, 
and elegance to her shape. Her nose, though not truly 
aquiline, was fine ; her forehead rose loftily above her 
brows ; and her hair, black as jet, was braided about her 
temples, shewing her Grecian, or, rather, Circassian face 
to advantage. There was a mind, a form that called all 
our affections and sympathies into life. We pressed not 
her hand, nor caught her smile, nor heard one accent fall 
from her tongue, without a lurking wish that all we felt, 
and saw, and heard was ours. 

The harmony and plaintiveness of her voice were not 
the least of her attractions. There was a mellowness, a 
kind of dying softness in it, which was particularly 
inviting. We could, in truth, again say with Moore, 

" There never yet a murmur fell 

" From that beguiling tongue, 
" Which did not with a lingering spell, 
" Upon our charmed senses dwell, 

" Like something Heaven had sung V 1 

And yet all these graces were only borrowed plumes. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 293 

Now we come to our moral. The love of pleasure had 
formed a prominent feature in this charming girl. Though 
she derived felicity from some sequestered spot, from a 
murmuring brook, and the labourer's cot entwined by 
the eglantine, and perfumed by the jasmine, she longed 
for the evening to arrive, when the din of music and 
the voice of flattering would be heard. Wasting her 
thoughts, elevated above the common level, thus, for 
some time, she began to think of the vanity of her pur- 
suits, and to give her noble and virtuous mind a more 
useful direction ; and it became directed, as by instinct, 
to religion. As she profited by that she had long 
neglected, her health declined, till death removed her 
from this world. It seemed as though her Creator had 
snatched her from the vortex of dissipation to save her 
from a violent as well as premature death ; and so fully 
was she prepared for the awful crisis, that the grave had 
lost its sting, and she sunk suddenly, as in the midst of 
her beauty, to rise only with a body still more beautiful, 
and a mind still more immaculate. As we in imagination 
chased her angelic form through either of her usual 
resorts, it 

" seem'd 
" Like some divinely haunted place, 
" Where fairy forms had lately beam'd, 

" And left behind their odorous trace ! 
" It felt as if her lips had shed 
" A sigh around her ere she fled, 
" Which hung, as on a melting lute, 
" When all the silver chords are mute, 
" There lingers still a trembling breath 
" After the note's luxurious death — 
" A shade of song, a spirit-air 
" Of melodies which had been there !" 

Often I pursued the tracks which once in health, and 



294 COLLOQUY XIV. 

grace, and beauty she pursued ; and as the bitterness of 
the first recollection of her sudden departure passed 
away, there was a pleasing satisfaction left in the remem- 
brance that her charms were not lost, but merely 
removed to some more congenial clime. We would yet 
call them back for a moment, that we may once again 
whisper those notes of love and friendship which seemed 
yet to hang upon the very boughs and hedges of the grove 
on which they fell. A kind of sacredness attached itself 
to the spot she frequented ; but the very murmurs of the 
wind, to which she would stand and listen, appeared to 
bring with them the dying sound of death, and to say, 
Why standest thou here ? Thou art but as the breeze, 
which no sooner makes a buss than all is hushed in 
silence. The departing evening rays which once had set 
on her, seemed to tell the same sad tale — Thy life is as the 
going down of the sun: it may have quickened, and 
warmed, and animated, but its influence is not per- 
petually shed. Yet the rays die to rise again. Musing 
thus, which brought with it mingled pleasure and melan- 
choly, a feeling which we all love and court, the shades 
of night would overtake me. But they served rather to 
increase the pensiveness of my reflections, while they took 
nothing from my sadness. It still seemed to invite more 
strongly the reappearance of my angelic friend ; and 
often in truth would I lisp these lines — 

Now as the mantle of the evening swells 
Upon my mind, I feel a thick' ning gloom ; 

Ah ! could I charm by necromantic spells 
The soul of Hebe from the deathy tomb ! 

Then would I wander through this darken' d vale, 
In converse such as heavenly spirits use ; 

And, borne upon the pinions of the gale, 
Hymn the Creator, and exert the Muse. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 295 

But as I wandered, I hoped to meet a spirit not much 
less welcome than Hebe herself. The place was lonely 
in the outskirts of the town — a dell prettily laid out 
in gardens, with a road overhung by dark umbrageous 
wood, leading to way-side cottages. Here have I often 
strolled when all nature seemed to be asleep, and no 
light, save that of the twinkling star, peeped through 
the thick foliage to guide my course, and no sound was 
heard, except faintly, in the distance, the lashing of the 
ocean- wave. A stillness how sublime ! A darkness how 
profound! It seems to give back to us the grief of 
former days without its poignancy ; and the mind, no 
longer engaged by the sight of visible objects, nor the 
ear by that which is audible, nor the nose by perfumes, 
for the dew of the evening locks up the sweets of the 
floweret, the imagination and reflection have undivided 
empire, and are now solicited to come forth in all their 
native strength and elasticity. If man has mind, the 
darkness of a sequestered spot, of whose beauties he is 
conscious, will call it forth. To him, therefore, who 
thinks, the gloominess of night is as welcome as the sun. 
Fancy and thought are lights which supply, in one way, 
the place of this luminary. Johnson dreaded darkness, 
rather from the tendency it had to rouse the full-toned 
energy of his mind, at which period the awful uncer- 
tainty of the future would come with its most appalling 
force. Yes, it has this great advantage — it lifts us up to 
God. We seem to feel that all is mute — that nothing is 
abroad — nothing stirring but Him. Through his infi- 
nite wisdom and goodness it is that things are now sunk 
for a season into divine repose, when the ploughman 
rests from the toil and heat of the day, and the aban- 
doned from her griefs; when the beggar forgets his 
poverty, and the prisoner his chains; or as Euphrasia, 



296 COLLOQUY XIV. 

in the " Grecian Daughter/' would say when she is 
imploring Philotas, who guards the prison-door of her 
starving father, to give her access to his cell — " Yes, all — 
all rest; the very murd'rer sleeps; guilt is at rest;" 
but she adds, " / only wake to misery."* What an idea 
of wretchedness ! But who would not court this grand 
soother of our cares ? 

" Oblivious Sleep! thy opiate give 

" Whene'er upon my couch I lie ; 
M Thus, without life, how sweet to live ! 

" Thus, without death, how sweet to die !" 

Reaching a rippling stream running parallel with a 
soft daisy bank, I sat down, listening to the perpetual din 
of the gurgling rivulet amidst the deathlike stillness 
around. This is, perhaps, one of the greatest luxuries of 

* The eloquent, forcible, and fearless supplications of 
Euphrasia, and the magical influences she exercises over the 
heart of her aged and imprisoned father's keepers, together 
-with the expedient she resorts to in giving him the very breast 
which was intended for her own child, to quench his thirst and 
allay his fever on the point of death, and the dangers she 
encounters to perform the last sad office to close 

" a father's beamless eyes ; 
" Print her last kisses on his honour'd hand, 
M And lay him decent in the shroud of death, 

form altogether one of the most perfect scenes which the art 
of tragedy can supply. Yes, the father is fostered at his 
daughter's breast, and finds a parent in his child ! ! Yes — 

" as his languid pow'rs 
" Imbibe with eager thirst the kind refreshment, 
" And his looks speak unutterable thanks, 
" Euphrasia views him with the tend' rest glance, 
M E'en as a mother doting on her child." 



COLLOQUY XIV, 297 

life. The world seems your own, and the continual 
sound of the gently whispering brook appears to drown 
the troubles of the breast, and to awaken the better feel- 
ings to consciousness. Care and trouble, envy and strife, 
sleep with general nature, never struggling to be free ; 
for they seem instinctively quieted, as though the period 
were uncongenial to their existence and encourage- 
ment. The epicure, who fastidiously seeks for enjoy- 
ment, and finds little except at the banquet — whose 
mind is capable of being satiated only by indulging 
the palate, will find no luxury at a period like this. The 
gourmand propensities are here without the only food 
which ministers to the happiness of the whole man, and 
without which life would be toilsome and heavy. 

Amidst my musings in this lonesome spot I had not 
forgotten the suitableness of the place for another inter- 
view with Stewart. I expected and wished for it ; and 
as the imagination can realize to itself much that is 
desired and coveted, it was to be expected that, as every 
thing was now so suited to its growth and expansion, 
exciting its creative capacities, it would not fail to bring 
things forth in their idealized beauties and excellencies, 
divested, for a time at least, of every doubt of their 
reality and truth ! Fancy had not flapped her wings in 
vain, or soared out of her element when she went in 
search of a thing that was possible; and the Professor thus 
appeared. 

STEWART. 
Perhaps I am interrupting your meditations ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Nay, the very being of whom I was thinking has 
become realized. 



298 COLLOQUY XIV. 



STEWART. 

Whenever we meet, you appear in deep thought: 
reflection and imagination are not, you must recollect, 
the best promoters of temporal interests. 

PHRENOLOGIST. - 

I remember to have been told by a friend, that 
thinking was a disease ; and that as far as nature is con- 
cerned, or as our individual interests are required, thought 
in general, i. e. such as the moralist and the sage would 
employ, is not necessary. 

STEWART. 

If man thinks without aiming to benefit the condition 
of man, he thinks in vain, and it were better he never 
thought ; but if some men had not thought, what would 
have been Europe ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

The necessity of deep reflection is obvious ; but I agree 
with my friend in the belief that, so far as we are indi- 
vidually concerned, study and research are inimical to our 
temporal interests. 

STEWART. 

That may be ; but you must not forget the future. 
Judge of the greater exaltation of the mind in eternity — 
of the imperative obligation laid upon you by your 
Creator and Preserver to make the best use of your 
talents. As you grow in knowledge, you grow in perfec- 
tion : and is not perfection called for ? God is the best 
rewarder of deserts, if deserts there are ; and if the con- 



COLLOQUY XIV. 299 

dition of the world is such as to let them go unrewarded, 
it is the duty of every man to exercise his highest faculties, 
intellectually and morally. They are entrusted to you 
for this purpose. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

My attention has been directed this evening to a young 
lady who often visited this spot, but who, while the 
bloom of beauty yet hung on her cheeks, left us for 
Paradise, and is now your companion, not ours. She 
entertained these notions respecting the application of the 
mind. The love of gaiety had long formed the strongest 
feature in her character; but, supplied with faculties 
destined for a higher sphere, though long kept in abey- 
ance, she was no sooner brought to reflect, perhaps by 
some accidental circumstance, than the responsibility of 
her situation came with full force upon her mind. 

STEWART. 

Then you had an opportunity of witnessing her organi- 
zation, and seeing how it corresponded with her mind ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Yes. She had Veneration very strong ; and before she 
became religious, her respect for persons of distinction in 
rank or talent was always most obvious ; but now that 
her mind had grown pious, it was exerted especially in 
reverencing the Deity. 

STEWART. 

You say she was fond of gaiety. What organs would 
give her this turn ? 



300 COLLOQUY XIV. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

She had the organ of Gaiety large ; but there are several 
motives which impel the ladies to enter into the vortex of 
society, and go the midnight rounds of pleasure. I can 
conceive of an individual being, as it were, instinctively 
lively and gay, and this without the tendency requiring 
a stimulus, such as the excitement of other faculties. I 
knew a gentleman to whom the society of ladies was 
unusually attractive. With them he was one of the 
most facetious and humorous men existing; but when 
out of their company, his talents in this way would be 
dormant. Sprightliness and gaiety are subservient facul- 
ties in genera] ; though one person, from possessing the 
organ larger than another, would be naturally more 
lively, all other things being equal. Let only one darling 
hope be extinguished, and we lose a degree of buoyancy 
of mind in proportion. The faculty of Hope is a great 
inciter to that of gaiety ; and in proportion as Hebe antici- 
pated the realization of her wishes, she would be cheerful, 
active, and gay. Those who have but little of the organs 
of Gaiety and Hope sink quickly into despondency, and 
are with difficulty again roused from their depressions. 
Happiness in life depends greatly on the development of 
these organs ; and it were better for an individual to be 
born poor with them fully developed, than rich without. 

STEWART. 

By conceiving a faculty to be active and powerful in 
proportion to the constitution of its organ, it seems to be 
implied that the differences in mind arise from the 
nature of the media which are instrumental to their mani- 
festation. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 301 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

Exactly so. I am decidedly of opinion, and I know- 
not whether the subject has been broached before, that 
men are not only born with the same number and kind 
of faculties, but that those faculties are equally strong, 
capacious, and perfect in all. Whatever differences exist 
are occasioned, I imagine, by the organ used as the 
instrument. If two carpenters, equally skilful, set about 
producing a piece of work which requires to be highly 
finished, it is not likely that he who uses rough, blunt, 
and worn-out tools will perform his task so well as the 
other who has the advantage of the best implements that 
can be provided. 

STEWART. 

If this proposition hold good, you must conclude 
that all minds will be alike when they no longer act by 
organs. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I do not think the opinion affords this inference 
inevitably. It seems highly probable that exercise 
enlarges the capacities of the faculties, and that this 
enlargement will continue to exist in eternity. I may 
be allowed to bring an analogous instance in the material 
world. Two persons with arms equally large, placed 
in different pursuits, one requiring no exercise of 
the muscles, the other requiring the greatest, such as 
the continual use of the blacksmith's hammer, will, after 
the lapse of a short time, possess arms widely different in 
size. The increased dimensions of the blacksmith's mus- 
cles are retained, though he should cease to work at the 
anvil, and no longer use the instrument which wrought 



302 COLLOQUY XIV. 

the change, or which contributed to their enlargement. 
It is, I imagine, with a mental faculty as with a muscular 
fibre. It does not necessarily lose, when no longer in 
connection with its organ, what it gained by the con- 
nection. 

STEWART. 

Is it not a principle that an organ of the brain requires 
rest from its labours the same as a muscle, or that it 
experiences the feeling of fatigue ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Yes ; and there is another principle, that, as that organ 
reposes under fatigue, lying incapable of exertion, some 
other organ may be brought into action, without having 
partaken of the exhaustion. I look upon this as a strong 
proof of the brain being a congeries of organs. One 
antiphrenologist, however, has said that the sense of 
relief we gain after the application to one subject, by 
attention to another, is no proof whatever of the brain 
being composed of different organs ; and the reasons he 
assigns for this declaration are, because a boy, after eating 
a hearty dinner of roast beef and vegetables, can eat a 
pound of plum pudding — because the stomach can receive 
different kinds of food, and because the eye is relieved 
and refreshed by different shades of colour and degrees of 
light, without any cessation of attention. He says, " we 
might as well say that the stomach had one organ for 
fish, another for flesh, another for pastry, another for 
cheese, and another for fruit ;" and " that the retina was 
made up of several organs, one for blue, another for 
red, and another for yellow/' as that the brain is com- 
posed of different, because it is relieved by change of 
application. 



COLLOQUY XIV. 303 



STEWART. 

There appears something very reasonable in this mode 
of argument. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

It is plausible., but not conclusive. This antiphre- 
nologist, whom I answered at length in one of the 
periodical journals of the day, without subscribing my 
name, must not forget that when fatigue exists, it cannot 
be with an immaterial principle, but with the instru- 
ment through which that principle acts ; that is, he 
cannot conceive of any thing spiritual being fatigued. 
Now if the brain be but a single organ, one homogeneous 
mass, the instrument alike of every mental faculty of 
whatsoever kind it may be, it is doubtless fair to presume 
that it would be equally fatigued under the application 
of one faculty as another, being still the same organ 
employed. The instance of gluttony is absurd ; the 
simile is not applicable ; nor is that of the stomach pos- 
sessing and digesting different kinds of food. The organ 
of Individuality, for instance, will not tire half so soon 
in recognising different individuals or objects, as the 
stomach in receiving opposite kinds of aliment. It is 
the natural capacity of the former to recognise, to a 
given extent, different objects without tiring; and that 
of the latter to receive different aliments without disgust. 
Different food is to the stomach what different objects 
are to individuality. Upon a similar principle as the 
eye is relieved by different degrees of light, or shades of 
colour, the organ of Individuality is relieved by the 
recognition of different objects; and we no more want 
different eyes or different retinas to recognise different 



304 COLLOQUY XVI. 

colours, than different organs of Individuality to take 
cognizance of different objects. If this opponent to 
phrenology had attempted to shew that each organ of 
the brain has various capacities, in a certain manner, he 
could not have resorted to a much better illustration. 



( 305 ) 



COLLOQUY XV. 



STEWART. 



Much has been said about phrenology being useful in 
Legislation ; at all events, that it will not be long before 
its usefulness, in this particular way, will be made 
obvious. Do you hold the same opinion ? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

I cannot see exactly in what way the science will be 
rendered available in this respect. It is contended by us, 
on the most reasonable grounds, that a man with a good 
and sound organization cannot commit those flagrant 
crimes which are punishable according to the laws of the 
country; and what shall it profit the judge or the cri- 
minal to know that the crime has been committed with a 
bad organization ? Take the case of murder for example. 
It may be some amelioration of the offence to learn that 
the deed was not perpetrated from malice aforethought, 
from premeditated revenge; and it may be pleasing to all 
parties, especially the phrenologist, to find that the 
organization favoured the idea, or the fact, of its having 
been the effect of momentary passion and impulse. If 
premeditated, the crime, in our view, is magnified ; but 
the criminal deserves our greater pity if he had, which 



306 COLLOQUY XV. 

he most assuredly would have, an organization thus 
impelling him to perpetrate the horrid deed. The motives 
which would impel a man to murder are numerous, 
and these motives may be suggested agreeably to the 
character of the conformation ; but the Legislature cannot 
consistently provide against motives : it looks to the act, 
and punishes accordingly. Now all that phrenology can 
furnish is the motive by which the culprit has been 
actuated. There are instances in which murder is con- 
sidered no crime ; but this is when it is committed in 
self-defence, and which may be done by the best of men • 
without the violation of any law, Mosaic or otherwise. 
The same principles apply to every other species of crime. 
A thief may steal from various causes ; but the Legisla- 
ture cannot consistently make a difference between that 
committed from actual want, and that to gratify some 
selfish passion. He who steals from the first cause is, 
perhaps, less censurable ; and if the punishment should 
happen to be mitigated by a considerate tribunal, it 
would be not in consequence of a man having a par- 
ticular organization, but because of the urgent necessity, 
the peculiarity of the thief's situation. It matters not 
whether the criminal has the organ of acquisitiveness 
large — he steals, and knows its offence. The act and 
knowledge of its crime make him a criminal, let the 
motive by which he was actuated be what it may. 

STEWART. 

But if any doubt prevail in regard to the identity of 
the person supposed to be the criminal, say the mur- 
derer — if a man were suspected who had a good and 
sound organization, and against him there was only cir- 
cumstantial evidence, in the absence of any suspicion 



COLLOQUY XV. 307 

attaching itself to another party, surely phrenology may 
then be applied advantageously, and found available and 
useful in the trial, if, that is, it possesses the qualifica- 
tions assigned to it. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

It may. The suspicion would be increased in pro- 
portion to the meanness of the development ; and if, for 
example, the murder had been committed in so secret a 
manner as to afford nothing more than circumstantial 
evidence, and if, meantime, the suspected person had an 
organization under which he could, according to phreno- 
logical rules, perpetrate the crime, and artfully conceal it, 
the more positive would that evidence become ; and yet 
no judge would be warranted to receive this as evidence 
while phrenology is unavoidably an imperfect science, as 
far as its practical tendency is concerned. The man thus 
organized may be religious, and restrained from the com- 
mission of a deed so opposed to the laws of God ; while 
the man who is conceived to have a good organization, 
may, for reasons already assigned, not have it. The 
organs favourable to the commission of this crime may 
be only moderately developed, but yet in a state of great 
activity, at which the phrenologist cannot arrive. The 
skull, too, may be unusually thin, as in the case of the 
soldier I mentioned, when nothing external would lead 
to the inference, and of the brain filling the local internal 
depression of the skull. Phrenology would afford strong 
presumptive evidence of this fact or that ; but while it is 
surrounded with so many difficulties in the way of its 
application — difficulties which appear to be insurmount- 
able, certainty, such as a judge in a matter of life and 
death absolutely requires, cannot be arrived at. 
x 2 



308 COLLOQUY XV. 



STEWART. 

It would, nevertheless, appear, according to your 
declaration and argument, that, if it were desirable to 
ascertain the motive by which a person is prompted to 
infringe the laws, phrenology might be useful. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

In the absence of all knowledge concerning the motive 
it would, if it could be applied unerringly ; but this 
absence is not frequent. The inducement is usually as 
soon known as the crime itself. Our knowledge of man, 
of whom we judge, in a great measure, by ourselves, 
in conjunction with the circumstances which attend the 
case, are sufficient of themselves, in general, to enable us 
to fathom the motive. If many circumstances with which 
it is desirable we should become acquainted, and in the 
ascertainment of which phrenology may certainly assist 
us, could be learned by phrenology only — if, rather, we 
had no other means of ascertaining those particulars of 
which this science would inform us, its utility would be 
most obvious. But it seems to me utterly inconsistent 
to talk of a thing's usefulness when its use is already 
superseded, or when it can bring nothing additional to 
our common stock of knowledge. 

STEWART. 

Phrenologists would not, in general, accord with you 
here. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

Perhaps not. I am most willing that the science 
should outrun all others in practical usefulness ; but the 



COLLOQUY XV. 309 

more I study or think of the subject, the more evident 
does it appear that the views entertained by many, most 
phrenologists, are extravagant and strained. Anatomi- 
cally and physiologically the science is beautiful, and in 
the estimation of character it may render us much assist- 
ance when other means fail; but it is seldom they do 
fail. It certainly gives us facility in ascertaining, with 
tolerable precision, the character of a stranger, and if 
this be desirable, it is useful ; but there is a difficulty in 
the way of its application here, and this is in the 
examination, to which a stranger would not submit for 
the satisfaction or gratification of him who would become 
the artist. It may be often necessary for a tailor to learn 
whether that man from whom he received an order for a 
suit of clothes was likely to pay him ; but if he, as a 
phrenologist, proposed to examine the head of his cus- 
tomer before he could supply the order, I leave you to 
judge whether he would ever have an opportunity of 
doing either. 

STEWART. 

You thus seem to think that neither insanity, educa- 
tion, nor legislation, the three things in which phrenolo- 
gists think so much may be done by their science, will 
ever benefit much by phrenology. The usefulness of 
phrenology I have always denied, and, as you know, 
gone so far as to dispute its claim to merit on any 
extended scale. I am happy, therefore, to find you ready 
to coincide with me in one respect at least. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

And I hope, at least, to find, ere you have termi-* 
nated your visits, with which, by the bye, I shall never be 
ready to dispense, that we agree not only in this respect,. 



310 COLLOQUY XV. 

but in every other which concerns the fundamental prin- 
ciples of phrenology. 

STEWART. 

My doctrines, my views, the result of laborious 
thought, are already before the world ; and what better 
testimony can you have of the degree of coincidence of 
opinion between the phrenologist and myself? 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

If you have not changed your opinions since you 
changed your nature, my hope of your being reconciled 
to phrenology is fallacious, and the testimony you allude 
to is a standing memorial against it. But I conclude 
that when men become wiser and holier, they frequently 
see reason to alter their earlier course of thought, and 
throw off the shackles of prejudice in which every man 
is more or less bound. If this conclusion were not 
obvious, I could not indulge the hope of seeing you 
assume a character now which you once almost despised. 
Good men, as they grow in holiness, gradually see sin in 
that to which they were formerly too blind to attach sin ; 
and wise men, for the same reason, may learn to find 
error in opinions which they had formed at a period 
when they were less likely to be genuine. 

STEWART. 

You appear to consider it as indisputable that phre- 
nologists are right, and my doctrines wrong. If so, there 
is no question of my now according with you, and that 
I am called upon to deny what in life I so zealously 
avowed, it being certain that a being in my state cannot 



COLLOQUY XV. 311 

be deceived on a matter which both the phrenologist and 
his opponent think themselves equal to decide. But 
studies of this character are not those pursuits on which 
we are most frequently bent, or those from which we 
derive our greatest felicities. Our feelings are more like 
those of the poet — ardent, vivid, glowing, rapturous ; and 
that faculty of the soul which delights in the beautiful, 
the grand, the glorious, is one most particularly called 
forth. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

This is Ideality, the functions of which I have briefly 
described, It is, or may be made, one of the most essen- 
tial sources of happiness. It has a very elevated and 
high bearing. The canopy, and congregation, and 
whole building of the celestial temple, with all its uncon- 
ceived-of fittings and embellishments, all its gorgeous 
assemblage of materials, upon which human eye could 
not rest, because it is the house of Undefined and Omnipo- 
tent Majesty, would be one of the objects of its especial 
devotion. What would Paradise be without such a 
capacity ? We may enjoy God in a dungeon ; but how 
much greater must be the joy in a place which is intended 
by the framer to be the source of abundant, boundless 
felicity, and which, on this side the highest heaven, is 
the most enviable of places, and too magnificent to come 
within the limits of the most distant conception. It 
being the same faculty inspired in the poet which helps 
to create one of the greatest enjoyments in Heaven, we 
need not marvel at the happiness possessed by poets, and 
the enthusiasm with which they follow their pursuits, 
and seize upon the sublime and beautiful to paint their 
thoughts, or excite their feelings. Ideality was, in the 
infancy of the science, called the organ of poetry, as it is 



312 COLLOQUY XV. 

observed to be large in poets. But since it is capable of 
serving men who are not poets,, in giving them power to 
derive pleasure from the noble and the picturesque, with- 
out possessing ability to describe their feelings in num- 
bers, the name has been altered. Besides, the faculty is 
only one element of the poet's talent ; it is the most 
essential, but a combination of faculties only can consti- 
tute a poet. It is this which gives the poetical bias — this 
which embellishes the ideas. Without it we should be 
nothing but prose writers, and that of the dullest order. 
We should have, perhaps, the dry and uninteresting 
doggrel of the reasoner, but no high-born conception 
arrayed in the most attractive graces of language, swelling 
the fulness of period, and breaking the tediousness of 
argument. It is this faculty which selects words and 
language that convey the most beautiful ideas. Addison 
has said that words, when well-chosen, have so great a 
force in them, that a description often gives us more 
lively ideas than the sight of the things themselves. 
The reader finds a scene drawn in stronger colours, and 
painted more to the life in his imagination, by the help 
of words, than by an actual survey of the scene which 
they describe. In this case, the poet seems to get the 
better of Nature : he takes, indeed, the landscape after 
her, but gives it more vigorous touches, heightens its 
beauty, and so enlivens the whole piece, that the images 
which flow from the objects themselves appear weak and 
faint in comparison of those that come from the expres- 
sion. But without Ideality this embellishment would 
be impossible. There must be, first, an emotion of mind 
taking cognizance of the sublime and beautiful, before 
words can paint or represent the thoughts. The effect of 
poetical lucubrations is in proportion to the strength of 
this emotion, to the aptitude of the mind to be moved by 



COLLOQUY XV. 



313 



beauties and sublimities, to its being capable of impas- 
sioned feeling, roused by the most exquisitely perfect of 
Nature's scenes and operations. 

STEWART. 

That there is an innate faculty, a powerful excitement 
of which gives a poetical bias, is a very reasonable sup- 
position. Dr. Thomas Brown has spoken of the " original 
Emotion of Beauty ;" Lord Kaimes of the " Senses of 
Grace and Taste," which correspond with the ideas enter- 
tained by the phrenologist of Ideality. Such perceptions 
as Brown and Kaimes allude to must be enjoyed by man 
before he can become a poet. But every man is more or 
less poetical. The admiration of fine scenery, of har- 
mony in its endless variety of ways, of verse itself, are 
proofs of the mind being poetical. But it requires some- 
thing more than a consciousness of this character, some- 
thing more than the mere perception or emotion, to 
describe in glowing language and appropriate imagery 
the loveliness and grandeur of a prospect, or frame so 
much as an original stanza, and paint with life and truth, 
or even with extravagance and creativeness, the various 
beauties and uniformities of the temporal world. In 
remote periods poetry was the natural language of the 
heart, when less existed to check the ardour of thought, 
the vivid, individualizing, free-born sentiments of the 
mind. The ancients, heated by the chase, or stimulated 
by war, poured forth their thoughts in language poetical 
in its cast. In the rudest simplicity, where the passions 
are not brutalized, the heart is alive to the keenest of 
impressions derived from nature, and susceptible of 
emotions which those who live in luxury, ease, and 
splendour seldom feel. There is in the visible world, 
in the actual form of things, in the external shapes of 



314 COLLOQUY XV. 

creation, beauty, and even grandeur, which may delight 
the fancy, and move the heart. To paint these images 
is not to fulfil all the sublime purposes which answer 
Shakspeare's character of a grand poet, when he talks of 
giving to " airy nothing a local habitation and a name ;" 
but still it is to convey a homefelt delight, a sober cer- 
tainty of pleasure. Yet the organ of Ideality fulfils 
both purposes to a great degree ; and as the visible world 
is the same to the peasant as the philosopher, both of 
whom may have the poetical faculty equally strong, it 
may be so associated with his fancy, glowing by nature, 
as to render his thoughts and sentiments most poetically 
inclined. The ancient Scandinavians, a comparatively 
illiterate set of people, were most poetical : and we have 
an example in my countryman Ossian, of poetry and 
rusticity not being inimical to each other. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

But the evidence of Ossian having written the poems 
imputed to him by Macpherson, who professedly appeared 
as his translator, is very scanty. The imagery of the 
poems is vivid and beautiful ; but I rather suspect Mac- 
pherson found a model in the Erse or Gaelic language, 
from which he moulded the long pieces attributed to the 
ancient Caledonian. Sublime and able as is the disser- 
tation of Blair, the great champion in the Ossianic cause, 
I do not see that he has established the point he aimed 
at. He has satisfied us that there is a profusion of meta- 
phors, often well sustained and highly coloured ; but the 
poems themselves shew that there is a vain repetition, 
or, as Johnson would say, an unconnected rhapsody. 
Nor is the imagery so uniformly beautiful, I think, as 
Blair would have us suppose. Its wildness is one of its 
chief recommendations ; but the inconsistency, the per- 



COLLOQUY XV. 315 

fectly unintelligible character of many similes and expres- 
sions, will ever detract from the merit of the work. These 
drawbacks, in conjunction with the un connectedness and 
repetition of the poems, may be no disgrace to Ossian ; 
but to Macpherson, as a partner in this literary compo- 
sition, they are. He might have thought that these blots 
corresponded with the times of Ossian, and be thence 
the better fitted to delude the world. Besides, he refused 
to produce originals, which would have been the only 
way to release himself from the imputation cast upon 
him by the rough, though perhaps merited, accusations 
of Johnson. 

STEWART. 
I shall not pretend to offer any opinion on this 
matter. It would be impolitic on my part, as there are 
several persons yet surviving whose feelings are involved 
in the affair. I will pursue the subject on which I was 
dwelling. Under Divine inspiration the Scriptures were 
penned. The strongest feelings of the inspired were 
called forth, and none are so prominent as the poetical. 
The ancient Hebrew itself was well adapted to give har- 
mony and cadence to the written periods ; but the strong 
poetical tint of Scripture language was, doubtless, sup- 
plied by the inspiration of such faculties as are best suited 
to the occasion. The tendency of the mind enabled the 
inspired writers to choose the most appropriate expres- 
sions, and make the collocation of words such as to render 
every sentence compounded of them harmonious, as well 
as perspicuous and forcible. The Songs of David for 
instance. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 
It has justly been said that poetry is the natural lan- 
guage of intense feeling, whether that feeling be Hebrew 



316 COLLOQUY XV. 

or English, Italian or Indian, Spanish or African. This, 
and not the structure of the language, was the cause of 
its " becoming the medium of prophecy and religious 
instruction." In proof of the nature of a language not 
being the greatest essential, we have only to instance the 
fact of the mind having poured forth, under an impas- 
sioned strain of thought, imagination, and sentiment, 
poetical lucubrations, even where the language has been 
ill calculated to express them. I conceive, of course, 
that external circumstances have much influence in call- 
ing forth this quality of the mind ; there are some 
things in nature poetry themselves, and these excite 
corresponding ideas. In proportion as nature moves the 
fancy, and animates the heart, and kindles warmth and 
admiration, so much the more manifest is this faculty of 
the mind, so much the more susceptible and developed. 

STEWART. 

The intenseness of the poetic feeling is yet often so 
great as to require but little assistance from external 
nature. In an ungenial clime and a barren waste, where 
there is nothing to elevate the imagination, or excite the 
fancy, it displays itself by creating a world of its own, 
peopled with fanciful objects, and graced with apt 
similes. These are its own creations, the peculiar pro- 
perties of its nature ; but I do not say it has an organ. A 
decided talent for poetry is never acquired. It is strictly 
genius, which is innate. Still some things are more 
capable than others of calling it forth. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

A writer, speaking of the happy influence Asia Minor 
has had upon men, philosophers, and poets, says, " the 



COLLOQUY XV. 317 

purity and benignity of the air, the varieties of the fruits 
and fields, the beauty and number of its rivers, and the 
constant gales from the happy Isles of the Western Sea, 
all conspire to bring its productions of every kind to the 
highest perfection ; they inspire that mildness of temper 
and flow of fancy which favour the most extensive 
views, and give the finest conceptions of nature and 
truth. Good sense is, indeed, said to be the product of 
every country; but the richest growths and fairest shoots 
of it spring, like other plants, from the happiest exposition 
and most friendly soil. 

STEWART. 

One great proof of the innateness of the poetic capacity 
in the mind of man is, that in the science or art of poetry 
there is no advance as in other things. The measure of 
the verse may be improved, but there is no cultivation 
that will give that inspiration to the mind under which 
a great poet writes. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

But how would you account for the progress made by 
some of our poets as they advanced in years ? The early 
efforts of Pope and Byron, for example, were not equal to 
their later productions. 

STEWART. 

Why, if, as you say, there is an organ of poetry, or a 
faculty which in particular furnishes the talent, and if 
the capacities of the mind grow in strength and vigour as 
manhood and maturity dawn, the reason is evident. The 
mind becomes matured altogether, and any power it 
receives in addition to the individual strength it acquires 
itself by the lapse and experience of years, is from the 



318 COLLOQUY XV. 

other capacities ; for being, as it were, according to your 
own position, dovetailed together, they mutually serve 
each other. You never heard of any first-rate poet having 
been taught his art like a shoemaker or a carpenter. 
Nature, and not art, is the poet's instructor and guide. 
But she becomes more powerful as she becomes mature. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

Byron declared to one of his friends, I believe Captain 
Medwin, that he wrote from the inspiration of the 
moment. He never knew till he had penned one line what 
was to come next. He thus wrote instinctively. It was 
a matter of impulse. And this is the genuine poetic 
feeling common to all poets of decided genius. Was it 
else with Shakspeare, Milton, or Dryden ? Pope forms 
some exception to this rule. In the construction of his 
verse he was a great artist, and there is reason to suppose 
he laboured altogether more than poets in general for sub- 
ject and matter. Yet he was, in truth, a poet ; though 
not equal to Dryden, whose poetic garden is too full of 
weeds and unevenn esses, amidst all the luxuriance, and 
gaiety, and strength, to shew that any great degree of 
labour was spent upon it. But he had not time to trim 
and prune. Poets make no preparations, in general, before 
they begin. A subject strikes them, and striking thoughts 
and appropriate imagery are suggested, gathering strength 
and brilliancy as they proceed. Some of them have never 
exceeded their first compositions penned in boyhood. 
Akenside's first poem is said, by his biographer, Johnson, 
never to have been surpassed by later productions. 
Kirke White, Chatterton, and others have been very 
early in the poetic field, culling some of its most per- 
fect sweets, manifesting a sagacity and precocity which 



COLLOQUY XV. 319 

nothing but Nature could have supplied. It is evident, 
indeed, that the poetic taste is natural ; and since even 
comparatively barbarous nations have given many indi- 
cations of the possession of this taste in a high degree, 
and since the mind delights in perfection and harmony, 
sublimity and beauty, wherein poetry dwells, it must be 
the fruit of a capacity innate with man. The poesy of 
uneducated poets is one of the most striking proofs of 
such a capacity. 

STEWART. 

But science is to be preferred to poetry for its use- 
fulness. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

That may be, though didactic poetry is scientific dis- 
quisition versified. 

STEWART. 

But though we agree as to the innateness of the poetic 
genius, are we destined to agree about the poetic organ ? 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

I know not what may be your thoughts now on this 
point; but certain it is that those men in whom this 
capacity has been most prominent — whose imaginations 
have been vivid and creative — who have shewn great 
partiality for the beautiful and sublime — who possessed, 
in fact, those peculiar elements noticed, have been always 
found with that part of the brain large, which is called 
Ideality. Now, if such an undeviating phenomenon exist, 
what are we to conclude ? 



320 COLLOQUY XV. 



STEWART. 



Why, if it be less in those men who have not the 
capacity in an equal degree, that it is, at least, a curious 
coincidence, though it may not amount to a fact. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

In what other light than as a fact we are to regard it, 
I cannot conceive. 

STEWART. 

When the poetical tendency of the mind is great, 
when rather the imagination is vivid, men are often in 
want of that sober thought, that calculating habit, that 
circumspection and diligence, which are called for in life. 
They are not the best calculated of men to herd with 
men, but roam in some wild adventure which may feast 
the fancy, but which will not provide against adversity. 
There is not necessarily a profligacy of mind, but an 
abandonment to pursuits wayward in tendency, reckless 
in appearance. A man thus constituted is apt to think 
that the loftiness of his conceptions, the brilliancy of his 
fancy, will secure him that which the plodding industry 
of the little-minded man, whose consciousness of the want 
of every advantage, save this, incites him to be diligent, 
seldom fails to realize. 



PHRENOLOGIST. 

Poets are persons of genius — of strong intellectual 
powers directed to one pursuit, which predominates over 
all the actions of their life. Genius is, at best, a way- 



COLLOQUY XV. 321 

ward plant, and man has little controul over it. It 
flourishes, but only in a particular element ; and if its 
produce be not such as the world most appreciates, it 
brings no return. But if the standard of its excellence 
were always to be measured according to this appreciation,, 
or the intrinsic value set upon it in a secular point of 
view, God would have sowed the seed in vain. Men of 
genius, exercising their talents to no immoral or profane 
purpose, form the noblest part of the creation, though 
careless of that acquirement most valued by man. They 
are yet objects of censure, because objects of envy to those 
who are dispossessed of all advantages, save industry ; and 
with whom mind is less valuable than money, pictures, 
and furniture. I will record an instance of the pre- 
sumption of that order of men, who by diligence alone 
have benefited their condition. Now diligence, as I said 
before, may be the result of covetousness, or of a desire 
to possess, for the sake of gratifying some selfish passion. 
It is generally so, perhaps always when the object of the 
gainer is not to glorify God by his gains. A gentleman 
of most respectable connections in Scotland, himself the 
lawful heir to a good property, which had been in his 
family many hundred years, but of which, through a most 
untoward circumstance, he became dispossessed, married 
a person with a few hundred pounds, but of admirable 
qualities. The gentleman himself was poor, steady, 
though somewhat careless in worldly matters, and the 
author of two or three excellent works. He partook in 
some degree of the character of such persons as I have just 
alluded to. The lady was the daughter of a tradesman — an 
excellent man. Some of the family, by industry and the 
occasional windfalls, as they are called, from the death of 
their relatives, contrived to emerge from the situation in 
which they were bred, yet still filling that of tradespeople. 



322 COLLOQUY XV. 

Most of them were yet richer than the gentleman who 
had married their sister ; which they magnified into so 
great a degree of importance, that they affected to despise 
him, who stood above them, in a worldly point of view, 
in birth, in education, in talent, in connection, in station 
in life altogether, embracing, meantime, many oppor- 
tunities to injure his feelings. 

STEWART. 

This is no uncommon occurrence. Men of opposite 
stations or views ought not to be connected. Though 
ever so equal in merit, if such a thing as merit exist, 
they have not congenial spirits, and therefore will not 
agree : mortifications and prejudices grow on both sides 
till all power of judging correctly of each other is sus- 
pended, and sin is added to sin till the very design of 
creation is thwarted, and man becomes a monster rather 
than a Christian. Indignation and contemptuousness are 
cradled within the bosom, and never hushed to silence 
till the breath of religion brings peace, and whispers 
forgiveness. 

PHRENOLOGIST. 

But is it not a lamentable state of things when indi- 
gence is brought forth as a crime? and when, against 
the acts of condescension a poor man is made to undergo, 
prejudices are raised that give them the deepest dye, and 
colour them with every species of malignity ? The man 
thus persecuted might have said of himself (for I knew 
him well), if he had as much pretension to rank as a poet 
as a generous, moral, and enlightened man — he might have 
said to his persecutor — 



COLLOQUY XV. 323 

Hast thou e'er seen a garden clad 

In all the robes that Eden had ? — 

Or vale o'erspread with streams and trees— 

A Paradise of mysteries ! — 

Plains, with green hills adorning them, 

Like jewels in a diadem ? — 

These gardens, vales, and plains, and hills, 
Which beauty gilds, and music fills, 
Were once but deserts — Culture's hand 
Has scatter' d verdure o'er the land : 
And smiles and fragrance rule, serene, 
Where barren wilds usurp' d the scene. 

And such is man 1 A soil which breeds 
Or sweetest flowers, or vilest weeds ; 
Flowers, lovely as the morning's light — 
Weeds deadly as the aconite ; 
Just as his heart is train'd to bear 
The pois'nous weed, or flow'ret fair. 

Insult him not — his blackest crime 
May, in his Maker's eye sublime, 
In spite of all thy pride, be less 
Than e'en thy daily waywardness ; 
Than many a sin, and many a stain, 
Forgotten, and impressed again. 

There is in every human heart 
Some not completely barren part, 
Where seeds of love and truth might grow, 
And flowers of generous virtue blow ; 
To plant, to watch, to water there, — 
This be our duty — be our care ! 

Despise him not ! — for care has brought 
The ore of truth from mines of thought ! 



Y 2 



( 325 ) 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. 



In the summer of the year 1836, a lady residing in the 
neighbourhood of Birmingham, and related to a gentleman 
well known in the scientific world, was precipitated from this 
spot into the gulf below ; from the effects of which she almost 
immediately expired. In the capacity of physician I attended 
her in her dying moments. It was a melancholy season for 
those friends who had accompanied her into this part of Devon- 
shire, whither they had partly gone on account of her health. 
Various accidents have taken place here from time to time, 
but none of so serious a nature as this, which was rendered 
the more disastrous in consequence of the lady having been 
under medical assistance for many years, and now, I believe, 
for the first time during that interval, suffered to remove from 
her more immediate neighbourhood. This narrow and danger- 
ous, though beautiful, pathway has since been widened at the 
expence of the neighbouring gentry. The Rev. J. J. Scott and 
Mr. Knight, a gentleman who some years ago purchased the 
extensive mountainous tract of Exmoor from Government, 
which he has since cultivated and laid out in farms, have been 
the principal contributors. It now forms one of the most 
splendid rides and drives in the kingdom for the distance of 
nearly three miles, though, perhaps, not the safest. The 
assistance of Mr. Scott has been most munificent. 



326 APPENDIX. 



Note B. 



Through the kindness of the proprietor* these delightful 
grounds are open to the public during the summer months. 
Without such a privilege one of the finest objects in the beau- 
tiful scenery of Lynmouth would be lost to the visitor. This is 
only one of the many instances in which Mr. Herries has shewn 
kindness and benevolence of disposition to the inhabitants and 
tourists. He is justly respected by his neighbours, and vene- 
rated by the poor. He has contributed bountifully to the 
improvement and enlargement of the parish church, which 
was served many years by one of the best of men, and whom I 
have the honour of reckoning among the number of my most 
sincere friends — a man who has yet been exposed to unpardon- 
able persecutions ; but virtue and goodness never go unmo- 
lested. They are qualities at which the proud and envious are 
always levelling their venomous shafts. Villany will flourish 
in the world while virtue goes unrewarded ; and why ? — because 
man has nothing to envy in the villain, and envy is the strongest 
passion of the breast. It is this which breaks the ties of 
friendship, so called, though they may appear to have been 
cemented by the daily intercourse of years — this which pro- 
duces that coldness of heart, suspicion, and reservedness now 
exercised so generally between man and man. But Friendship, 
real actual Friendship, is not a feeling of common minds. It 
is something that no man can truly enjoy but him of warm 
passions and delicate tastes. 

Nice honour was surely thy sire, 

Soft sympathy call'd thee her child, 
Enthusiasm gave thee her fire, 

Sensibility nursed thee— and smiled. 

In Greece temples have been built and statues erected to the 
honour of Marathon ; but if we raised one monument to Friend- 
ship which had not these qualities for its foundation, it would 



* Mr. Herries, of the firm of Herries, Farquhar, Halliday, & Co., 
Bankers, St. James's Street, London. 



APPENDIX. 327 

be every hour in danger of falling. There is no stability but 
in goodness — no honour without virtue — no sympathy in self- 
ishness. Yes — I sympathize with those who have endured the 
rod of persecution, having had it laid on myself without any 
just cause. When prejudices are imbibed by him who is natu- 
rally of a proud and malicious disposition, it is astonishing 
with what facility he invents evil, and perverts every thing 
according to his wishes. His magic wand is brought into exer- 
cise, and virtue is metamorphosed into vice. The enamelled 
floweret watered by the dew of Hermon is stripped of all its 
beauty, and made as deadly as the aconite. Frankness is 
turned into dissimulation, disinterestedness into selfishness, 
industry into idleness, and the fruit of perseverance and talent 
into the reward of imposture, trickery, and cunning, while 
sobriety and morality are regarded as the playthings of a fool, 
or as the coverings of some species of deception and intrigue. 
It has always seemed to me that such base misconstructions 
are the stripes of some monster employed by the chastening 
and correcting hand of God. We can be at no mistake to learn 
that the malignant prejudices of the human heart, which 
always spring from pride and envy, the most fiendish of all 
qualities, are always found in a persecutor, cradled up as the 
darling passions of the breast. Let every person view the 
calumnies of his enemy in the light of corrections, which they, 
perhaps, always are, and he will be taught to bear them with 
patience, even with pleasure. The mercies of God are often 
bestowed in disguise ; and the condition of him who passes 
through life without encountering bufFetings, scorn, and per- 
secution from the world is not to be envied, for he would not 
appear to be of that family whom Jehovah finds it necessary to 
chastise. The persecuted should learn to cry with the Royal 
Psalmist in the sixty-fourth and one hundred and twenty- 
fourth Psalms, which will afford him a consolation, and teach 
him to exercise a forbearance that the stoicism of cold phi- 
losophy could never furnish. 



328 



APPENDIX. 



PHRENOLOGY AND FATALISM.* 



The greatest obstacle to the progress of phrenology is 
the idea that the system it embraces leads to fatalism. At a 
cursory glance I grant that such appears to be its tendency ; 
but am yet certain that a due consideration of the subject will 
undermine the foundation of any preconceived notion of this 
kind. Of all objections to phrenology this is certainly the 
most prevalent ; and, were it true, would no doubt form a very 
serious one. 

There can be no question that all men, from the time of Adam, 
have possessed the same kind of mental constitution ; that the 
nature of all minds is, in effect, alike ; but that the differences 
in intellect, in morality, in physical propensities in different 
men, are owing simply to different directions or operations of 
their minds, occasioned by the various causes which, agreeably 
to the laws of association in the government of the world, 
operate upon the mind, influencing its manifestations. I mean 
to say by this, that men need not have different minds, or, 
rather, different innate faculties, in order to have different 
ideas and inclinations ; those ideas and inclinations being 
elicited according to the circumstances in which men are 
placed. We are, in this case, led to conclude that these dif- 
ferences are not attributable to the minds of different parties 
being more or less replete with faculties, or even to such facul- 
ties being innately or naturally more or less energetic and 
capacious, but to circumstances apart from mind, which yet 

* Some notice was taken of this subject in the thirty-first page of the 
Second Colloquy, with a promise that it should be adverted to again. The 
matter being one of importance, I am unwilling to close this volume without 
doing so, which, on second thoughts, I think will be received best in this 
form. 



APPENDIX. 329 

influence the mind, extending its operations, and calling forth 
its powers, its qualifications : these circumstances are organ- 
ization of the brain, and education in the full extent of its 
meaning. Among these causes the first stands conspicuous ; 
and I think there would not be much difficulty in shewing that 
civilized persons have, in general, corrupt minds in proportion 
to the debased state of the organization ; yet we are not to 
quarrel with our nature, much less with our Creator. The 
phrenologist allows, without hesitation, that, according to the 
development of the brain, so is the character ©f an individual, 
so are the capacities of the mind, so are the motives, inclina- 
tions, and pursuits ; supposing, that is, religion has not 
wrought a change which the mind itself, whatever may be its 
advantages in organization, would be incapable of effecting : 
but though he says the organization occasions the different 
directions of the mind, he does not pretend to declare that no 
cause beside religion is in operation to modify the influence of 
the organization, and thus the mental bias, which is given or 
produced by that organization. But if, — asks an individual 
fearful of advocating the science lest it should inculcate 
fatalism, — if a person be born with certain propensities deter- 
mined by the organization, which must be the case if those 
propensities are known by the organization, and in relative 
proportion to it, how can that person be answerable for the 
consequences of those propensities, which, if determined by, 
dependent on, known by, and in relative proportion to, the 
organization, cannot be either dependent on, or determined by, 
the will ? Admitting, for the sake of argument, the principle 
of phrenology to be carried out to its fullest extent, the organ- 
ization always determining the motives, and that the natural 
man cannot possibly be under moral restraint if he have a bad 
organization, to the same extent at least as another person 
who has a better organization, — admitting that the actions of 
man must take place from necessity, and not by will and 
design, if the manifestations of the mental faculties require 
material media, and are in relative proportion to the develop- 
ment of those media, — admitting, in other words, that the 
propensities are more vehement and less controulable when 
their organs are unusually large, upon the principle, which is 



330 APPENDIX. 

undeviating in nature, of power being in direct ratio to the 
size of the instrument which manifests it, — admitting, in short, 
that in proportion to the size of the organs of the lower facul- 
ties, abuse, and, consequently, evil, are likely to result, and 
that a person, born with an unusually and comparatively large 
development of these organs, is more prone to evil than another 
person otherwise organized, it must not be overlooked that 
such an organization is the immediate result of man's own 
disobedience. In the organic, as in the moral kingdom, which 
was created perfect in every conceivable way, there are affixed 
certain laws by which it is intended man should be guided. 
By a due observance of these laws, man might have prevented 
that defect in his organization of which he has now so much 
cause to complain. The infringement of them is capable of 
entailing upon us moral evil. I have not time to enter into 
any account of their nature, nor as to how they maybe obeyed, 
and what would be the consequences if they were obeyed ; but 
I am authorized to say, that, if they were attended to in the 
manner it is required they should be, i. e. agreeably to the 
government of God, more perfect organizations would exist. 
A bad organization is, it would thus appear, one of the penalties 
of guilt: ( I visit,' says Scripture, l the sins of the fathers 
unto the third an&;> fourth generation;' and why, I ask, may 
not that visitation be manifested in a penalty of this kind ? 
The immoral and profane parent with a bad development, 
according to our ideas of phrenology, gives to his child the 
same kind of development ; the consequence of which is, an 
equally immoral line of conduct. When parents have more 
rigidly adhered to religion and morality, the descendants are 
found to possess a better organization ; to inherit, in fact, an 
organization amply fitted to yield a large share of moral excel- 
lence. Now, since the organs become enlarged as they are 
exercised, and since an increased exercise and size would aug- 
ment the energy of the faculties, it naturally follows, that, on 
a man improving his organization by exercising his moral 
faculties, and thus adding to the volume of the moral organs, 
which, being thus increased, would raise him in the scale of 
moral beings, he would transmit to his offspring that which he 
had acquired. This is self-evident, for it is now thoroughly 



APPENDIX. 331 

established that the organic, as well as the moral, qualities of 
the parent usually descend to the offspring. But then, it may 
be argued, a man, having a low organization, would not be 
able, according to the system of phrenology, to exercise his 
moral faculties so as to improve the state of his moral develop- 
ment, simply because that organization would impel him to act 
contrary to morality. To a certain extent this is just ; and yet 
it is not fatalism, but, rather, a penalty resulting from an 
infringement of the Creator's laws. Still, however perverse 
the inclination and motives of action may be, as dependent 
on organization, there is yet a discretionary power in every 
person not an idiot or madman. There is a conscience in 
every man, which, though not void of offence, is, nevertheless, 
not in total darkness, ignorance, and eclipse. 

If a man have a bad organization, such as would give a 
particularly evil bias to his mind, without that organization 
being an hereditary defect, the consequence of some infringe- 
ment, I own we should have to impugn the moral government 
of the world, or, in other words, have reason to doubt whether 
any degree of responsibility could attach itself to man except 
by imputation ; because, if a moral impediment were put in 
our way, that impediment being occasioned by organization, 
without being the result of some kind of disobedience, some 
violation of the Creator's laws, I cannot see where responsi- 
bility would lie, nor even the justice of a being who would con- 
demn us on account of it, — a physical defect operating injuri- 
ously to our eternal interests, and that, too, without the cause 
resting in ourselves. Radically defective as our intellectual 
and moral nature is likely to be with a debased physical 
development, I think any person would take a very objection- 
able position were he to declare that the organization limits 
the reception of Divine truth : even admitting that it did, I see 
no reason why we should attach the blame to nature, or to any 
thing except our own infringement of the laws of God. Had 
these laws never been disobeyed, I am inclined to believe that 
all men would have had beautiful and perfect developments. 
This is no more than to say that a defective state of the brain 
is owing to moral depravity ; and, therefore, that the conse- 
quences of this defect, however far it may extend or interfere 



332 APPENDIX. 

with our morality, or even piety, are nothing more than some 
of those forms of penalties incurred by the transgression of 
God's laws in that government to which it was intended man 
should be subject. Still, religion, pure undefiled religion, is 
so supernatural a thing, so entirely the gift of a Supreme 
Being, bestowed without right or merit on our part, that I 
doubt much if the organization has any thing to do with it. 
Where there is a splendid development, a person can easily 
conceive of a higher tone or temperament being given to the 
religious sentiments, — of the aspirations being fervent and 
devout, with little of enthusiasm or misguided zeal. Religion, 
in such a case, would burn with a steadier and brighter light, 
and, I think, meet with a higher reward — a fuller measure of 
happiness in a future state. A cultivated understanding is not 
absolutely necessary to devotion. Requisite, therefore, as a 
good organization may be to the more perfect development of 
our faculties in every particular relating to our temporal wants, 
it does not seem necessary to the reception of that Divine 
grace which makes a true Christian. I think the appropriation 
of the faculties, as influenced by the organization, refers only 
to man in his relation to this world ; because, did we carry the 
principle out to the fullest extent, we should be limiting the 
influence of that Spirit by gross matter, and no individual with 
a bad organization could ever, in consequence, be saved, or, at 
least, receive such a plenitude of Divine favour as may secure 
future felicity. For these reasons I dissent from the views of 
Mr. Combe, mentioned in the second Colloquy. They cer- 
tainly seem to be at issue with revealed truth, and are not, in 
my opinion, necessary results of phrenology. Had Mr. Combe 
confined himself to the fact of man being susceptible of moral 
improvement, discipline, and rectitude, agreeably to the state 
of the organization, his views might, I presume, have been 
warranted. But to suppose the saving faith of the Christian, 
which, when possessed, is obtained through a medium higher 
than any human privilege could bestow, and which no reason- 
ing however profound, and no morality however pure, could 
provide, can be received only by a certain development of the 
brain, is makiDg that subservient to the creature, which, as 
distinguished from any effort or operation of the mind by its 



APPENDIX. 333 

own internal resources, is really and essentially superadded to 
the mind by an extraordinary effusion of Divine grace — grace 
not inherited by man — grace entirely supernatural, and which, 
I conceive, would never be conceded to man because he pos- 
sessed a good organization. 

In all operations mind is the first cause : it is not the 
nature of matter to produce any action of mind however simple. 
Matter by nature can neither think, reason, feel, nor compre- 
hend ; and ere it can be proved that the science leads to 
fatalism, it must be proved that mind is material, and not a 
willing and free agent. Such a degree of fatality as is sup- 
posed to exist in nature, is scarcely possible under any circum- 
stance : that it prevails to some extent in all things is indis- 
putable ; but this prevalence affects only the determinate laws 
of creation, and not the free-agency of man, nor so much as 
the constitution of the brain, in so far, at least, as that consti- 
tution is subject to the powers of man. A man may be an 
atheist, but there is no necessity for that man to be so ; it is 
contrary, indeed, even to the dictates of his own conscience; 
and also to the will of that Being who created him. The 
Creator gives the mind in all its greatness, with a power, a 
will, a free-agency to enable this greatness to be turned either 
to a good or a bad account ; and it is very doubtful whether he 
directs that mind to great, philosophic, and scientific pursuits, 
more than to such as are infidel and vicious ; and it is still 
more dubious whether that inward monitor, conscience, is not 
awake and active, be the organization what it may. It may be 
enfeebled in its authority when the organization is low, shed- 
ding forth the purity of its own lustre to be eclipsed by abused 
propensities. A bad organization is a clog to the understand- 
ing, even to the conscience : it is like a cloud preventing the 
meridian sun shining upon the earth, but which is not the less 
magnificent, nor, in reality, the less powerful and bright, 
because the influence of its rays is impeded by an intervening 
body. Still, be the organization of whatsoever kind it may, 
there is yet reason, yet conscience ; and what are these ? Who 
doubts the investigating, comparing, cogitating, and under- 
standing character of the former ? or who will pretend to argue 
that the latter possesses no feeling or sense of justice, no 



334 APPENDIX. 

knowledge of right and wrong, affecting in particular the rela- 
tions we bear to a Supreme Being? By reason we deduce 
inferences from premises, connect one thing with another, and 
acknowledge a series of phenomena which must have a cause : 
by consciousness we feel the necessity, and, perhaps, im- 
pulsively or instinctively, of obeying that cause. In pursuing 
the grand chain of existence through every stage from infancy 
upwards, conscience, like a planet in its orbit, never forgets its 
course ; for though it may come in contact with many opposing 
forces, it gives place to none. Its light may be eclipsed, but it 
can never be subdued ; its influence may be weakened, but 
nothing can destroy it. The course pursued by man, may, if 
his inclination prompt — if his free-agency be not, in spite of 
nature, or, at least, the design of the Deity, contumaciously 
bent — lead him into the path of morality. Were he led on 
instinctively, through the aid of a principle planted within 
him, in the same manner, for instance, as the vulture seeks for 
carrion, and the swallow migrates, and be thus destitute of a 
free-will, he would, of course, irresistibly cleave to that which 
is either good or evil ; but to say that good is not followed thus 
strictly because there is no latent germ bearing the principles 
of moral and intellectual improvement within itself, is going 
beyond what either nature or revelation warrants us to affirm. 

We cannot speak disparagingly of the nature of man, for 
we know not, in the first place, what it is ; nor, in the second, 
is it possible that the nature of man, which does not strictly 
include the misappropriation he may choose to make of it by 
his free-agency, can be otherwise than good, — possessing the 
qualifications of good, being, in fact, the immediate work of 
the Creator. The evil man commits results from the ascend- 
ancy of his sensual nature, from the indulgence of propensities 
in the extreme, from the gratification of desires which are 
forbidden. 

Further, since daily experience and the history of the 
whole world teach us that there are certain propensities inhe- 
rent in man which are capable, though not irresistibly, of 
vicious impulses and interdicted inclinations, and that some 
men, from their natural constitution, be it from organization, 
or from mind abstractedly from organization, are inclined to 



APPENDIX. 335 

be virtuous, while others are disposed to be vicious, by what 
mode of reasoning shall the phrenologist be found guilty of 
fatalizing the mind because he affirms or proves that these 
different temperaments or tendencies are regulated by the 
organization ? By shewing these things to exist, he only eluci- 
dates a fact in nature. It signifies not to the world at large 
how those tendencies are manifested if they really exist : it 
matters not, I would say, whether mind be thus directed by 
its own internal resources alone, or whether the brain takes an 
essential part. Phrenology, therefore, is merely a corrobora- 
tion of what Nature herself affords ; it tells us of certain pro- 
pensities, certain desires existing, and of those propensities 
being the more untoward, in other words, more liable to abuse, 
in proportion to the development of certain cerebral parts ; 
and this principle, it is contended, is not a mere creature of 
the phrenologist's brain, but a principle that has its derivation 
in nature. He does not, however, say, whatever latitude he 
may allow himself in judging of the motives of man by the 
conformation, that those desires are irresistible, nor even that 
vice is a natural, inherent quality of the mind ; for he allows, 
in this respect, more than most philosophers are willing to 
do, — that all the faculties are by nature good, their abuses 
only being the constituents of evil passions and unholy inclina- 
tions. Except in a diseased brain, restraint is always possible. 
True, that restraint may be less, or evil actions more ungo- 
vernable, in one individual than in another, and that, too, by 
reason of the conformation ; but where is the man who, in the 
commission of sin, does not experience a conviction of its 
heinousness, if not from a conscience moved by religious 
impressions, at least from one actuated by its own internal 
and natural movements ? — and where is he who is not capable, 
at the same time, of resisting the impulse to do evil by the 
efforts of his own will — a will that is ever present, though, I 
grant, not ever dominant? But then, says the antiphrenolo - 
gist, conscience and will, granting the possibility of their 
being free in their respective exercises and individual capaci- 
ties, are weakened as the posterior lobe of the brain is aug- 
mented in size ; because, if the propensities grow stronger in 
proportion to the relative size of the lobe, the will that is 



336 APPENDIX. 

required^ to place a restraint upon them, must be, conse- 
quently, the more impotent. This is, in a measure, true. The 
propensities being strong is the reason why the power of the 
will is subdued, or, rather, less authoritative. Did the will 
increase in power as the propensities are heightened in inten- 
sity, a balance would be preserved, and a check kept upon 
them. I do not see why the will should keep pace with the 
propensities in this case ; why, in other words, because a man 
has vehement passions, his willing, ruling, or dictating pro- 
vince should be stronger than that of a man whose desires are 
more moderate : it would not be so unless his reflecting facul- 
ties were much more powerful ; for these faculties are those 
which supply us, in a great degree, with will. Whatever be 
the cause of that impotency, certain it is that the impotency 
prevails ; and I cannot see why phrenology should be charged 
with inconsistency and falsehood for explaining the matter to 
us, and in a manner that cannot be disproved, much as it may 
be questioned. 



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